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A HAND BOOK OF SUMMER TRAVEL 



DESIGNED FOR THE USE AND INFORMATION OF VISITORS TO 



LONG ISLAND AND ITS WATERING PLACES 



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PUBLISHED BY 

ROGERS & SHERWOOD 

21 & 23 Barclay Street— 26 & 28 Park Place 

New York 

18 7 9' 






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T Entered accordinq to ^ct of Congi^ss, by T 

IN THE Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, 
T, in the year 1879. 1 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The New Long Island 7 

Seav/anhaka lo 

Castle Conklin i6 

Fishing Scenes in Summer i8 

North Shore Notes 24 

The Hamptons and Payne 29 

Montauk and the Montauketts 36 

The South Side 45 

Notes by a Sportsman 47 

Coney Island and Brighton Beach 50 

Railroad Facilities 52 

Bellport 54 

Babylon and Great South Bay 58 

Ronkonkoma 59 

Southampton , 61 

Rockaway 63 

Garden City 65 

Flotsam and Jetsam 69 

Suburban Homes 71 

Climatic Notes 75 

To New Settlers 77 

General Directory of Long Island 79 

Advertisements 97 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

Port J efferson from Cedar Hill Frontispiece. 

Morning at Jesse Conklin's 7 

^A'■reck of the Circassian lo 

Sag Harbor ii 

Peconic Bay and Residence of Chief-Justice Daly 12 

Fisherman's House near Easthampton Beach 13 

Cliffs of Montauk 14 

Castle Conklin 16 

Uncle Jesse Conklin 16 

Codfisher's Hut on Cap Tree Island 17 

Menhaden Net Reels 18 

A Catch of Menhaden 19 

Manhanset House, Shelter Island 20 

Near Easthampton 21 

The Beach at Fire Island 24 

Cabin in the Woods above Poquott * 25 

Lake Ronkonkoma 26 

"Home, Sweet Home," Payne's Interior 29 

A Belle of Bridgehampton r 30 

King Sylvester 36 

Montauk Lighthouse 37 

King David Faro and Family 38 

The Sweetheart of John Howard Payne 39 

Moonlight on Easthampton Beach 40 

A Scliool in Sight 41 

Montauk Light 41 

Flat-top Tree 42 

Reckless Explorations 43 

Stephen, King in Posse 43 

Impressions of Long Island, by an Impressionist 44 

Hotel Brighton 51 

Carpus and Metacarpus of a "Whale— Amagansett 54 

In the Hither Wood, Montauk 55 

Montauk 56 

Fire Island 58 

Off Fire I sland 60 

Near Smithtow^n 62 

Near Amagansett 64 



THE NEW LONG ISLAND. 




HE year 1878 marked a very great change in the fortunes of Long Island. 
Under influences that need not be considered here, it was brought before the 
public in a new light, and became an object of interest to a vast number 
of people to whom previously it had been known merel}' as a general geo- 
graphical fact. It had existed ; it had had a definite relation to Long Island Sound ; its 
southern shore had been prolific of shipwrecks, and about its eastern extremity were 




MORNING AT JESSE CONKLIN S. 

{By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner Ssf Co.) 

grouped dim traditions of Indians, misty stories of hunting exploits, and tales of wild 
storms, and uncanny, barren moors. 

In 1878, hundreds of thousands of people from all parts of the country explored it from 
end to end. Artists heard of the treasures that its scenery and its people possessed for 
them, and went thither in numbers ; while others ransacked its traditions and its historj^ 
and told in the newspapers and in the magazines, in poetry and in prose, how much it 
contained to interest and inspire, and what it offered to all for whom the summer months, 



8 NEW LONG ISLAND. 

in whole or in part, meant relaxation from business cares and the pursuit of pleasure or 
health. Its railroads were awakened from their slumbers and took on a new life, and 
if one of the causes of the indifference and apathy with which it had been regarded had 
been that, near as it was to the metropolis, it had been hopelessly difficult and discourag- 
ing of access, that cause was certainly removed. 

People began to speak of the fertility of its soil, and wondered that thousands upon 
thousands of acres should lie untilled within a few miles of New York, and be held at a 
price less than they would bring in any part of Illinois or Missouri. Others found it one 
great stretch of the loveliest watering-places on the whole Atlantic coast, where the sum- 
mer was ever tempered by the fresh ocean breezes, where there was such bathing and 
boating and fishing as existed nowhere else, and where living was to be had at rates that, 
particularly appealed to a large class upon whom the times weighed more or less heavily. 

The geographical character of Long Island is sufficiently familiar to every one. Its 
peculiar shape, its abundant bays, and its environment of islands and isolated beaches,, 
cause it to arrest attention on our maps. Geologic probability and Indian tradition alike- 
point to a previous non-insular condition, before the waters of the Sound broke through 
Hell Gate, and left us the penalties of ferries or East River bridges and unsightly islands,. 
and when the tribes passed the straits dry-shod. Our history introduces us to this spot 
as the Helle-Gat of our worthy Dutch settlers, which played sad havoc with the sturdy tubs 
of those imperturbable navigators, and which Washington Irving described as a " mighty,, 
blustering, bullying, hard-drinking little strait." It used to be a great place for lobsters, 
which were in great repute for their size and quality ; but after the Battle of Long Island 
they all disappeared, never to return, it is said because of the great cannonading. William 
Eddis, Esq., his Majesty's Surveyor of Customs at Annapolis, Maryland, wrote of this 
somewhere between 1769 and 1777, when living in New York, and pronounced them 
" prodigious " in size and " vast in numbers." It is surmised that they all went up the 
Sound and betook them to Massachusetts ; but later writers began to tell of their return at 
the early part of this century, when some were taken in Kipp's Bay, and later on " a spit 
of sand which extends in a circular direction from near the Brooklyn shore toward New 
York, a short distance south of the Fulton Ferry." ♦ 

From the Narrows to Montauk is about 125 miles, while the breadth varies between 8 
and 20. The superficial area is about 1,500 square miles, or 960,000 acres. Daniel 
Denton, one of the first settlers of the town of Jamaica, on Long Island, and a son of the 
Rev. Richard Denton, the first minister of Hempstead, wrote in London in 1670 of Long 
Island, in his description of " New York, with the places thereunto adjoyning," that it was. 
" most of it of a very good soyle and very natural for all sorts of English grain." In fact, 
Denton wrote more correctly about Long Island than many that followed him and that 
had better opportunities to know whereof they wrote. Of its resources he said : "The 
fruits natural to the Island are Mulberries, Posimons, Grapes great and small, Huckle- 
berries, Cranberries, Plums of several sorts, Rasberries and Strawberries, of which last is- 
such abundance in June, that the Fields and Woods are died red : Which the Country- 
people perceiving, instantly arm themselves with bottles of Wine, Cream and Sugar, and 
in stead of a Coat of Male, every one takes a Female upon his Horse behind him, and sa 
rushing violently into the fields, never leave till they have disrob'd them of their red 
colours, and turned them into the old habit." Even yet, at Montauk, the wild strawberry 
grows in such abundance in June that the hillsides are reddened with their color, and one 
is at a loss to know at first to what at such a season that peculiar quality of the landscape 
is due. 



NEW LONG ISLAND. 9 

*' The Herbs," wrote Denton, " which the Country naturally afiford, are Purslain,. 
White Osage, Egrimony, Violets, Penniroyal, Alicampane, besides Saxaparilla is very 
common, with many more. Yea, in May you shall see the Woods and Fields so curiously 
bedecke with Roses, and an innumerable multitude of delightful Flowers not only pleasing 
to the eye, but smell, that you may behold Nature contending with Art, and striving to 
equal, if not excel, many Gardens in England." 

"There is several Navigable Rivers and Bays," he says, "which puts into the North- 
side of Long Island, but upon the South-side which joyns to the Sea, it is so fortified 
with bars of sands, and sholes, that it is a sufficient defence against any enemy, yet the 
South-side is not without Brooks and Rivulets, which empty themselves into the Sea.'' 
The trout-fishers of Long Island, and they are many, may know that this veracious chron- 
icler knew a good stream when he saw it. Of these South-side brooks he speaks as 
" Christal streams," that " run so swift that they purge themselves of such stinking mud 
and filth which the standing or lowpaced streams westward of this colony leave lying.'* 
" Neither do they give way to the Frost in Winter or drought in Summer, but keep their 
course throughout the year," and are " well furnished with Fish, as Bosse, Sheepsheads^ 
Place, Perch, Trouts, Eals, Turtles, and divers others." 

In the matter of game, Denton speaks of " Deer, Bear, Wolves, Foxes, Racoons, 
Otters, TNIusquackes and Skunks, Turkies, Heath-Hens, Quails, Partridges, Pidgeons, 
Cranes, Geese of several sorts, Brants, Ducks, Widgeon, Teal, and divers others." 

Of course it is not any longer the same paradise of the hunter, and its "wilde beastes" 
are few and far between. But, nevertheless, it offers as good shooting and fishing as any 
spot this side of the Adirondacks or the Northwest. Its Spring and Fall shooting is not 
to be surpassed anywhere in the East, and its summer fishing is not equalled. 



SEAAVANHAKA, 



THE ISLAND OF SHELLS, 




WRECK OF THE CIRCASSIAN. 




HESE pages are designed to present to the reader the general aspect of Long 
Island as it has appeared to people who have visited it either as searchers after 
the picturesque or in quest of health and recreation during the summer months. 
They show in how far the various purposes and objects of summer travel can 
be satisfied by Long Island, and at the same time indicate what it has to offer in the way 
of attractions to permanent settlers. There are no more fortunate people than those 
^vho have established homes on either shore of Long Island. One journey along the 
road from Islip to Babylon is sufficient to demonstrate this. Not anywhere else about 
New York shall one see such tasteful and beautiful homes as are there, nor anywhere 



SEA WANHAKA. 1 1 

else hear as much of the advantages of the cHmate or the various resources of the neigh- 
borhood. 

All these features have been set forth in the most interesting shape by the writers and 




artists whose pleasant researches were chronicled in pen and pencil in the magazines of 

last year and this, and from which the quotations that follow have been taken. They 

lose nothing, in this shape, of the intrinsic interest that prompted their original publication. 

The most poetic name that Long Island has been known by is that chosen by Miss 



12 



SEA WANHAKA. 



Jennie J. Young, in her admirable sketch published in Lippincott 'j Magazine, " Seawan- 
haka, the Island of Shells." 

"It is not by any means certain," says Miss Young, "what was the name by which 
Long Island was known to the aboriginal dwellers in its 'forest primeval,' or indeed that 
they ever had a common name by which to designate it. It seems probable that each 
tribe bestowed upon it a different name expressive of the aspect that appeared most 
striking to its primitive and poetical visitors and occupants. Among so many tribes — 
the Canarsees (who met Hudson when on September 4, 1609, he anchored in Gravesend 
Bay), the Rockaways, Nyacks, Merrikokes, Matinecocs, Marsapeagues, Nissaquages, 
Corchaugs, Setaukets, Secataugs, Montauks, Shinecocs, Patchogues, and Manhansetts, to 
say nothing of the Pequots and Narragansetts on the northern shore of the Sound — a 
community of usage in regard to nomenclature could hardly be expected. We accord- 
ingly find that one of the old names of the island was Mattanwake, a compound of 
Mattai, the Delaware for 'island.' It was also called Paumanacke (the Indian original 




PECONIC BAY, AND RESIDENCE OF CHIEF-JUSTICE DALY. 



of the prosaic Long Island), Mattanwake (the Narragansett word for 'good' or 'pleasant 
land '), Pamunke, and Meitowax. For a name, however, at once beautiful and suggestive, 
appropriate to an island whose sunny shores are strewn with shells^ and recalling Indian 
feuds and customs, savage ornament and tributes paid in wampum, no name equals that 
we have chosen — Seawanhaka, or Seawanhackee, the ' Island of Shells.' 

" No general description will give an adequate idea of its changing beauty and well- 
nigh infinite variety. Its scenery assumes a thousand different aspects between odorifer- 
ous Greenpoint and the solitary grandeur of Montauk. If one could only recall the old 
stage-coach, and, instead of whirling in a few hours from New York to Sag Harbor, creep 
slowly along the southern shore, and complete the journey of one hundred and ten miles 
in two days and a half, as they did fifty years ago, a description of the route would be 
both easy and interesting. Then the old stage lumbered out of Brooklyn about nine 
o'clock in the morning, a halt was made at Hempstead for dinner, and at Babylon the 
passengers slept. Starting early, they arrived in due time at Patchogue, where they 
breakfasted late, and thereby saved their dinner, and at Quogue, about twentj'--four miles 



SEA WANHAKA. 



13 



farther, they supped and slept. Again making an early start without breakfast, they 
jogged along to Southampton, where the morning meal was taken, and thus fortified they 
returned to their seats, and passing through the beautiful country lying around Water 
Mill and Bridgehampton, rattled into Sag Harbor — a far different place from the Sag 
Harbor of to-day — and there dined. Fortunately, the rest of the route remains to us, and 
we can still 'stage it' down the old and beautiful road to Easthampton. A leisurely 
journey of this description, at an average rate of a fraction less than two miles an hour, 
and with abundant opportunity of getting out for a brisk walk as the horses dragged their 
cumbrous load over an occasional sandhill, gave the traveler a chance of seeing the 
country he passed through. Long Island lay before him like a book, every line of which 
he could read at leisure. He could wander along the shore of the bay at Babylon, and 
mayhap meditate upon the beauty of Nature while looking at the moonlight sleeping on 




FISHERMAN S HOUSE NEAR EASTHAMPTON BEACH. 



the water ; he could at Quogue seek his way across the meadows and gaze upon the 
troubled face of the ocean. We can do so still, but these pleasures are no longer to be 
counted among the fascinating interludes of continuous travel. They are not the accom- 
paniments of a long journey that gave it a flavor of romance, and made a trip to Sag 
Harbor and return the employment of an eventful and delightful week." 

Babylon is no more remote now from New York than Morrisania was a few years ago, 
and the fast morning and evening express trains carry thousands to and fro, who think 
nothing of the distance. 

For most visitors, Great South Bay is as interesting as any place about Long Island. 
Thousands of people live by the game and fish that it produces, or by the various occu- 
pations that are created by the demands of the summer travelers, and every one that goes 
thither must needs do as an amateur and pay therefor what the regular inhabitants do as 
a necessity. The consequence is that there is no end of fishing and shooting and boat- 
ing from one end of the year to the other, and all of these sports seem to be inexhaustible, 
and with the enforcement of proper legal restrictions upon the marketmen, inexhaustible 
they will always remain. The clams and the oysters of Great South Bay are celebrated 
wherever those shell-fish are known in the civilized world, and last winter the Long Island 



14 



SEA WANHAKA. 



Railroad transported enormous quantities of the celebrated Blue Point oysters to New- 
York, en route to Liverpool by the ocean steamers. 

The watermen of Great South Bay have been very picturesquely described by Mr. 



iiiiiiiiimiiiiPit'iiiiiiiipi\^ 







Ernest Ingersoll in a very bright and readable article that appeared in Harper's Monthly^ 
in October, 1878. "When these grizzled, amphibious, tarpaulin-skinned baymen," he 
says, " whose sense of humor is keen and of whose sarcasm let the pretentious cockney 
beware— when these men are not talking of spring flights of snipe and autumn arrivals of 



SEA WANHAKA. 



15 



sea-fowl, one is sure to hear something of fishing. Prate about the taciturnity of such 
characters ! They are the greatest gossips imaginable; and what they don't know and 
won't quickly tell about shooting and fishing, you — for one — are not likely to teach them. 
But the real 'bay-man' is mainly concerned in the fishing as an outsider; his work — and 
an aristocratic occupation he regards it — is to help * sports ' from the city fill their bags,, 
and enjoy themselves so much that they will come and hire him again. He has no desire 
to cultivate any graces. He is aware that his peculiarities amuse them — the more out- 
landish the better ; and without much design in doing so, he comes to cherish as capital 
his uncouth and hearty ways, and expects visitors to do homage to his rough qualities. 

" The fishing begins in early spring when the ice goes out and the nets can be set. The 
first ones are open-meshed, fifty or sixty feet long by four feet wide, made of very fine 
twine, and the fish they are intended to entangle are flat-fish or flounders, which are very 
good eating. Once a day the nets are visited and the captives taken out. Late in April 
the flounders go out into the deeper water, and then are caught with hook and line, which 
is great sport, after which comes blue-fishing in May, and that is greater fun. Get a ten- 
pound blue-fish on the far end of your line, pulling one way, while your yacht is carrying 
you swiftly through the curling waves in the opposite direction, and you will need both 
adroitness and muscle to secure your prize. 

" But the Long Island fisherman, as well as his brethren of the craft elsewhere in this 
greedy world, is not content with fishing by hook and line, or even with small nets : he 
must have the large results to be derived from seining. The seine, as is well known, 
consists of a webbing of twine, now made by machinery, but not long ago always woven 
by hand, provided with floats along the upper edge, and with lead sinkers at the lower. 
Its use is to inclose a certain area of water, and by bringing the ends together either to a 
boat or on the shore, to secure the fish that may happen to be in the inclosure, unable or 
unwilling to escape ; and it varies in length from one sufficient to take a few minnows, to 
the shad or bunker seine a mile long, which is hauled in by a steam-windlass. 

" It is interesting to see how much the net enters into the domestic economy of all 
these south-shore people. When it is too old and ragged to be longer serviceable in the 
fishing, they hang it on the palings of the hen-yard to keep the chickens in, stake it 
around tender plants in the garden to keep off intruders, reshape large pieces into ham- 
mocks, and employ it for a dozen other domestic purposes. Their maritime instincts are 
shown otherwise. A flower-bed will be framed in by the vertebrae of a stranded whale, 
or his great flipper-bone propped up into a seat under an apple-tree, w-hile the gilded 
figure-head of some time-honored ship forms a sort of grotesque gargoyle at the gable of 
a modern cottage, or if statue-like, resides as the divinity of a summer-house." 

Incidental to the boating and the fishing, particularly the blue-fishing, the great weak- 
ness of Wall Street in its hours of relaxation — incidental to all the sport and recreation 
of the region, is the eating. And it is a remarkable feature of life on Long Island, that 
in whatsoever part of it you may wander you shall find everywhere the best of fare. In 
fact, no people live better than Long Islanders, nor do any others so delight in imparting 
their particular culinary pleasures and blessings to others. They have fish of all kinds 
in abundance, and Long Island tables are proverbially good. The following description 
of a typical repast at a well-known establishment on an island in Great South Bay has a 
certain unmistakable appetizing quality, which is familiar enough to people who know the 
locality, and which may interest many others. It is from an account published in 
Scribncr's Monthly, in February of this year, of the travels on Long Island of an associa- 
tion of New York artists known as the Tile Club : 



i6 



CASTLE CONKZnV. 




CASTLE CONKLIN. 

{By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner dr' Co.) 



Castle Conklin had come down out of the air, and had assumed an aspect of compar- 
ative soHdity on the 
level patch of sand and 
sea-grass meadow that 
is known as Cap Tree 
Island. A barrel on a 
pole presented itself as 
a sort of suggestive sign- 
post to mark the chan- 
nel, and having rounded 
it, the remainder of the 
distance to the castle 
was speedily accom, 
plished. 

Down upon the end 
of his little wharf, wait- 
ing for our painter — whereby is meant not a Tiler, but a rope — stood one of the jolliest- 
looking old gentlemen in existence. 

" Hullo ! " he shouted, and his voice had a rich, merry crackle in it — " Hullo ! Here 
you all are, in a gale of wind, and wet through ! " And he shook hands with every one 
in the heartiest and cheeriest fashion as if he were a wealthy old uncle and each Tiler his 
favorite nephew, to whom he was going to leave an enormous fortune. This was Uncle 
Jesse Conklin, the proprietor of Castle Conklin, upon Cap Tree Island ; and the way that 
he welcomed the Tilers to that establishment, and bundled them into a bright, clean 
little room with a wood fire blazing and crackling m an enormous stove, with neat lamps 
burning on the clean, white-washed walls, and with plenty of clean, white, dry sand on the 
floor ; and with the wickedest-looking old pirate, in a huge pair of boots and baggy 
breeches, and wearing a great grizzly beard, and with a tremendous voice that he kept 
down in the boots aforesaid, piling on more wood — the way in which Uncle Jesse did 
this completely captivated those discriminating gentlemen, and they one and all fell in 
love with him on the spot. Coats were taken off and hung up to dry ; " traps " were 
inspected and put away. And as they gathered about the stove, toasting first one side 
and then the other, it was conceded that never before, on this side of the Antarctic 
circle, had a fire in June appeared so entirely appropriate. 
" Any gentleman like an oyster, to give him an appetite ? " 
It was the " Pirate " who spoke. He had put his head in the 
•door to propound the question, and he took it out again, just in 
time to save it from being taken oiif by the rush that ensued. 
Outside were two boys with a huge basket of oysters at a table 
iipon which could be seen, by the light of a large lantern, quar- 
tered lemons, pepper, salt and vinegar and forks. The oysters 
were prime. Kept in the cold salt water of Fire Island Inlet, 
they did not seem to pay the least attention to the absence of 
the letter r, and were in a condition that could not be sur- 
passed. They were Blue Points, than which there are none 
better, and the two boys were experts with the oyster-knife ; but over the behavior of 
those Tilers during the ensuing ten minutes a due regard for decency requires that a veil 
should be drawn. They had reached a point at which to have further regarded the oys- 




\^^X^?M > 



UNCLE JESSE CONKLIN. 

{By kinii permission 0/ Messrs. 
Scrihfier &' Co.) 



CASTLE CONKLIN. 



17 



ters in the light of something to impart an appetite would have been a mockery, when 
Uncle Jesse was heard to shout, '" Solid men to the front ! " and he led the way to the 
dining-room. 

Persons ordinarily competent to discriminate properly have been known to turn up 
their noses at the blue-fish, and to affirm that it was an inferior if not a quite unworthy 
fish. It is herein affirmed, and not as by one whom his appetite had bereft of his judg- 
ment, that a greater error there could not be. Take a five-pound blue-fish, fresh from the 
line, split him, butter him and broil him, and serve him on a hot dish with sliced lemon 
and a sprinkling of parsley, and he is a most excellent, nay, a noble dish. Staled by 
transit in an ice-box, bruised and perhaps mutilated by the clumsy familiarities of the 
market, it must be confessed that in the metropolis he is a fish that the thrifty landlady 
favors as one of which a little will go a long way. 

The " O'Donoghue" said it was a tiley fish, which was the highest compliment he 
•could pay it, but he was convinced that language failed to characterize properly the clam- 



if:-" 














/ 










/ 


jm 


y \ 






Hi 


Ml^l^^~'^^!r^^B 


^BBaiiffi^anftiitffeESWl 






1 







COD-I isiirr s H T ON c \ 1 1 l i i=-l nd 
{fiy kind permission 0/ ISJessrs. Scribner b' O.) 

pie that succeeded it. It was nothing short of a work of art, and for deeds far less there 
have been titles conferred. But common charity, out of consideration for the too suscep- 
tible reader, suggests that here the subject should be dropped ; and so, with a passing 
allusion to fried oysters and a mere hint of a porterhouse steak two inches thick and 
inconceivably juicy, dropped it is. 



Castle Conklin, as these imaginative gentlemen chose to call it, is near Fire Island, 
and is greatly sought in the summer time by boating and fishing parties. It is easily 
reached from Babylon by boats, and excellent fare and comfortable beds are always to 
be had. Guests from Sammis' Surf Hotel, on Fire Island Beach, go there in great 
numbers daily for clam roasts, baked sheepshead and the like, which are the features of 
its cuisine, and to which the familiar surroundings impart a wholly unique and pleasant 
flavor. New Yorkers who go down on Saturdays during the blue-fishing season, find no 
difficulty in catching Monday morning's express at Babylon, and reach the city before 
business hours begin. 



FISHING SCENES IN SUMMER TIME. 




F course for the general visitor the blue-fishing of the South Shore and the 
striped bass fishing at Montauk have the greatest interest ; but next to that 
in which one may personally participate, come the fishing industries of the 
inhabitants, of which the chief is undoubtedly netting the menhaden or 
mossbunkers. In Harper s Monthly for October 1878, Mr. Ernest IngersoU furnished a 
very spirited and interesting account of this work, which is eagerly watched from the 
shore by visitors and by boating parties who followed the Mossbunker fleet outside 
Great South Beach. This is how Mr. IngersoU describes it : 




MENHADEN NET-REELS. 

(^By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner &" Co.) 

"Ofi Culloden Point the look-out excitedly announced, 'Fish off the port bow!*" 
The captain seized his glass and scanned the water. So did I. 

' There's a big bunch,' he shouts. ' Watch 'em flirt their tails ! Good color ! See 
how red the water is ? ' 

* Oh yes, to be sure,' I cry. ' By Jove, that's a good color ! ' 

My vacant face must have belied my words, but he didn't notice it. He was shouting, 
' Lower away the boats ! Stand by to ship the nets ! ' furiously ringing signals to the 
engineer, giving hasty orders to the wheelsman, ensconcing himself in a pair of oil-skin^ 

18 



FISHING SCENES. 



'9 




trousers so capacious I half expected he would disappear altogether ; and so, amid the 
roar of escaping steam, the creaking of davit tackle, the laughing excitement of the crews, 
and the rattle of rowlocks, I tumbled head-foremost into a boat, and the steamer was left 
behind. Now the flirting of tiny tails was plainly visible, but I must confess that I did 
not learn to distinguish the reddish hue which indicates a school of these fish until much 
later in the day. The two large boats side by side were sculled rapidly toward the shore 
where the fish were seen, the forward part of each boat piled full of the brown seine, 
which extended in a great festoon from one to the other. There were four men in each 
boat, all standing up, and in our red shirts and shiny yellow oil-skin overalls, we must 
have made a pretty picture on that 
sunny morning. Close by was a 
pound net, where a porpoise was roll- 
ing gayly, ,notwithstanding his cap- 
tivit}', but by manoeuvring we got the 
' bunch ' turned away from it and 
well inshore where the water was not 
too deep. At last we were close to 
them, and now came a scene of ex- 
citement. 

' Heave it ! ' yelled the captain, 
and in each boat a sailor whose place 
it was worked like a steam-engine, 
throwing the net overboard, while 
the crews pulled with all their muscles 
in opposite directions around a circle 
perhaps a hundred yards in diam- 
eter, and defined by the line of cork 
buoys left behind, which should in- 
close the fish. In three minutes the 
boats were together again, the net 
was all paid out, an enormous weight 
of lead had been thrown overboard, 
drawing after it a line rove through 
the rings along the bottom of the 
seine. The effect, of course, was 
instantly to pucker the bottom of the 
net into a purse, and thus, before the 

poor bunkers had fairly apprehended their danger, they were caught in a bag whose 
invisible folds held a cubic acre or two of water. 

This was sport ! I had not bargained for the hard work to come, to the unsportive 
character of which my blistered palms soon testified. 

None of the fish were to be seen. Every fin of them had sunk to the bottom. 
Whether we had caught ten or ten thousand remained to be proved. Now, lifting the net 
is no easy job. The weight of nearly ten thousand square yards of seine is alone 
immense, but when it is wet with cold sea-water, and held back by the pushing of 
thousands of energetic little noses, to pull it into a rocking boat implies hard work. 
However, little by little it came over the gunwales, the first thing being to bring up the 
great sinker and ascertain that the closing of the purse at the bottom had been properly 




A CATCH OF MENHADEN. 
{By kind permission o/ Messrs. Scribner df 



Co.) 



20 



FISHING SCENES. 



executed. Yard by yard the cork line was contracted, and one after another the fright- 
ened captives began to appear, some folded into a wrinkle or caught by the gills in a 
torn mesh (and such were thrown back), until at last the bag was reduced to only a few 
feet in diameter, and the menhaden were seen, a sheeny, gray, 
struggling mass, which bellied out the net under the cork line 
and under the boats, in vain anxiety to pass the curious barrier 
which on every side hemmed them in, and in leaping efforts to 
escape the crowding of their thronging fellows. How they 
gleamed, like fish of jewels and gold ! The sunshine finding 
its way down through the clear green water seemed not to 
reflect from their iridescent scales, but to penetrate them all, 
and illumine their bodies from within with a wonderful chang- 
ing flame. Gleaming, shifting, lambent waves of color flashed 
>and paled before my entranced eyes — gray as the fishes turned 
_ their backs, sweeping brightly back with a thousand brilliant 
tmts as they showed their sides — soft, undefined, and mutable, 
down there under the green glass of the 
sea ; while, to show them the better, myriads 
of minute medusae carried hither and thither 
glittering little phosphorescent lanterns in 
gossamer frames and transparent globes. 

All possible slack having now been 
taken in, the steamer approaches, and tow- 
ing us away to deeper water, for we are 
drifting toward a lee shore, comes to a 
stand-still, and the work of loading begins. 
The cork line is lifted up and made fast to 
the steamer's bulwarks, to which the boats 
have already attached themselves at one end, 
holding together at the other. This crowds all the bunkers together in a mass between the 
two boats and the steamer's side, where the water boils with the churning of thousands of 
active fins. A twenty-foot oar is plunged into the mass, but will not suffice to sound its 
living depths. Then a great dipper of strong netting on an iron hoop is let down by 
tackle from the yard-arm, dipped into the mass under the guidance of a man on deck 
who holds the handle, the pony-engine puffs and shakes, and away aloft for an instant 
swings a mass of bunkers, only to be upset and fall like so much sparkling water into 
the resounding hold. 

' How many does that dipper hold ? ' 
'About a thousand.' 

* Very well, I will count how many times it goes after a load.' 

But I didn't. I forgot it in looking down the hatchway. The floor of the shallow 
hold was paved with animated silver, and every new addition falling in a lovely cataract 
from far overhead seemed to shatter a million rainbows as it struck the yielding mass 
below, and slid away on every side to glitter in a new iridescence till another myriad of 
diamonds rained down. If you take it in your hand, the moss-bunker is an ordinary- 
looking fish, like a small shad, and you do not admire it : but every gleaming fiery tint 
that ever burned in a sunset, or tinged a crystal, or painted the petals of a flower, was 
cast in lovely confusion into that rough hold. There lay the raw material of beauty. 




FISHING SCENES. 



21 



the gorgeous elements out of which dyes are resolved— abstract bits of lustrous azure 
and purple, crimson and gold, and those indefinable greenish and pearly tints that make 
the luminous background of all celestial sun-painting. As the steamer rolled on the 
billows, and the sun struck the wet and tremulous mass at this and that angle, or the 
whole was in the half-shadow of the deck, now a cerulean tint, now a hot brazen glow 







'&M^m^ 









NEAR EASTHAMPTO:> 



would spread over all for an instant, until the wriggling mixture of olive backs and 
pearly bellies and nacreous sides, with scarlet blood-spots where the cruel twine had 
wounded, was buried beneath a new stratum. 

' How many ? ' I asked, when all were in. 

* Hundred and ten thousand,' replied Captain Hawkins. ' Pretty fair, but I took 
three times as many at one haul last week.' 

' What are they worth ? ' 

' Oh, something over a hundred dollars.— Hard a starboard ! go ahead slow.' 

And the labor of the engines drowned the spat, spat, spat of the myriad of restless 



22 FISHIXG SCEA^ES. 

little tails struggling to swim out of their strange prison, while I climbed to the mast- 
head to talk with the grizzly old look-out, who had been round Cape Horn thirteen 
times, yet did not think himself much of a traveler. 

The cry of, * Color off the port bow ! ' brought us quickly down the ratlines and 
again into the boats. 

The business of catching these fish and reducing them to oil and manure has only 
lately been developed into large proportions. From the earliest times the coast farmers 
have been accustomed to catch them in seines and spread them on their fields — a very 
unsavory practice ; and to some extent oil was pressed from them long ago. But the 
fishing was all done in small sailing vessels, and depended on the good fortune -of the 
fish coming to the right spot. A few years ago steamers began to be substituted, and 
are now almost exclusively employed by those who are able to embark any money in the 
enterprise. About seventy are engaged, all the way from New Jersey to Nova Scotia, 
catching an aggregate of 50,000,000 a year. Greenport alone is said to have half a 
million dollars thus invested. This competition, however, has cut down the large 
margin of profit formerly enjoyed. 

In October the menhaden disappear, whither no one knows, probably to the deep 
water of mid-ocean. 

That day we caught 250,000 fish, and made a round trip of a hundred miles, going 
away outside of Montauk Point, where it was frightfully rough after a two days' easterly 
gale. Great mountains of water, green as liquid malachite, rolled in hot haste to mag- 
nificent destruction on the beach, where the snowy clouds of spray were floating dense 
and high, and the roar of the surf came grandly to our ears wherever we went. Yet the 
difficulties were none too great for these hardy fishermen, who balanced themselves in 
their cockle-shells, and rose and sank v/ith the huge billows, without losing their hold 
upon the seines or permitting a single wretched bunker to escape." 

Menhaden, chopped up fine into what is called "chum," are used for deep sea blue- 
fishing. The biggest takes of bluefish are secured in this way, and chumming is greatly 
preferred. The boat is anchored, and the " chum," thrown over continuously in small 
quantities, drifts away with the tide. The lines, baited with large slices of menhaden, 
drift with it and are eagerly seized by the voracious ten and twelve pounders. 

The bass-fishing off the rocks at Montauk is a very different sort of sport, and one 
fifty-pounder is glory — and work — enough for a day. Splendid sport with rod and line 
may be had there in the fall, and excellent accommodations at Stratton's or Montauk 
lighthouse. Comfortable conveyances are always to be had at most reasonable rates at 
Sag Harbor and at Easthampton. 

All fishermen will be interested in the story that a sportsman tells in Forest and 
Stream of the way in which fish bite at Montauk: 

" You've all noticed how often a hungry fish will leap for your fly, regardless of warnings 
in sharp pricks of the hook, until at last he's laid away in your creel. I wasted much 
sympathy over fish I have caught with their jaws torn, thinking how they must have suf- 
fered ; but when I caught a trout which had an old hook in his jaws, and later, one with 
a hook and nearly three feet of line attached, I felt easier, and more as if they had 
deserved it for their greediness. These fish were caught in a small stream, and therefore 
my chances of catching a fish previously hooked were not desperate. But in salt water,- 
with the whole ocean before you, you will admit that the like chances are as slim as draw- 



FISHING SCENES. 23' 

mg the first prize in a lottery. A few years ago I was one of a fishing party on the smack 
Quilp, Capt. George Harrison. One morning while fishing off Shagnana Reef for codfish 
I fastened to a large one and succeeded in bringing him to the surface. The Captain 
stood by to take him, when away he went, with a new hook and six feet of line. I told the 
Captain I would know that fish again when I saw him. ' Yes,' he said, * when you see 
him you will.' That night we lay in Fort Pond Bay and early the next morning started 
for the south side of Long Island, and anchored a long distance off shore. Our lines were 
soon over, and almost the first fish I caught was the identical fish I lost on Shagnana Reef 
the day before, over twenty miles from our present fishing grounds, with the same hook, 
with serving and finely-filed point, and marked by file-cuts ; I knew it well. I told this to 
one of our smackmen here, believing he would tell me, ' You don't expect me to swallow 
that;' but he replied, 'Yes! once I was fishing off Block Island; didn't have much 
luck ; lost a heavy hook and some feet of line ; thought I'd try a run down to Coxen's 

Ledge, when I'll be d d if I didn't catch that same fish and he had my gear in his 

jaw.' Another says, ' I fell in with some swordfish off Montauk and got a couple and 
put the iron into a big one, but it tore out ; the iron struck his back fin and cut it into two 
parts, and it looked pretty ragged. The next day we went off Block Island and I saw the 
same fish, and again on No Man's Land ; and when I got to Nantucket I saw him again ! 
I met the same fellow off the Capes, and finally ran afoul of him off Portland, where I got 
him. He was the same fish, if I am any judge, which I struck and lost off Montauk, and 
his fin hadn't healed !' It is well known that whales have been killed, having irons in 
them marked with vessel's name, years after and thousands of miles from the spot where 
they were first struck." 



SOMETHING ABOUT THE NORTH 

SHORE. 

MISS JENNIE J. YOUNG, IN " LIPPINCOTT." 




O adapt ourselves to modern conditions, and as we must view Long Island in 
sections to appreciate it as a whole, a route may be chosen in which, by using; 
both railroad and stage, we may see even more of it, and that to greater ad- 
vantage, than the old-time traveler. It is necessary, in the first place, that 
something should be seen of the northern shore. In character and associations it differs, 
widely from the southern. There is, in the second place, the central section, in avoiding 
which much of the rural and most placid beauty of the island would be lost. There 












THE BEACH AT FIRE ISLAND. 



is, thirdly, the southern shore, varied in itself according as the point at which it is viewed 
lies on the ocean or on the landlocked bays between Hempstead and Mecoc, and extend- 
ing to the rugged headland of Montauk. We shall thus, by passing from point to pointy 
see as in a panorama all that need now attract our attention in viewing Seawanhaka. 



THE NORTH SHORE. 



25 



The place which the Indians named Cumsewogue is now mainly distinguished by the 
cemetery of Cedar Hill. Passing among the graves, we reach the summit, and a wonder- 
ful scene bursts upon our view. Looking north toward where the village is nestling in a 
hollow surrounded by woods, the waters of Port Jefferson Bay are lying without a visible 
ripple ; the sails of the ships passing up and down the Sound gleam in the sun ; and 
beyond them, like a hazy line, are the shores of Connecticut. On the left are glimpses 
of farmhouses, the church-spires of Setauket, and rolling fields alternating with woods. 
On the right are more woods, bounded far away by the broken shore of the cliff-bound 
Sound. The wooded peninsula in front that stretches to the north, forming the eastern 
shore of Port Jefferson Bay, was named by the old Puritan settlers — for what reason it 
would be hard to divine — Mount Misery. It is now, fortunately, more generally known 
in the neighborhood by the name of the Strong estate of Oakwood. Sea, shore, woods 
and valleys make up a picturesque scene of peaceful beauty, and one forgets in the 
presence of its living charms that the site upon which he stands is within the limits 
of a city of the dead. 

We descend into the village — which lies 
as if in a slumber that has lasted for a cen- 
tury and a half — at the head of the bay. 
The Indians named the place Souwassett, 
and the Puritans, in their usual matter-of- 
fact manner, called it Drowned Meadow. 
Its present name was adopted about forty 
years ago, probably in a patriotic mood, and 
also in the belief that the name it then bore 
was too unqualified and likely to give rise 
to unwarrantable prejudices. That there 
was some truth, if there was neither beauty 
nor imagination in the name, is, however, 
evident from the marsh-lands lying between 
the village and Dyer's Neck or Poquott^ 
which divides the harbor from that of Se- 
tauket on the west. One of the old land- 
marks of the village, dating from about the 
first quarter of the last century, is the house 

built by the Roe family when the settlement was first made. It now forms part of the 
Townsend house, and is still occupied by collateral descendants of its builder. Acces- 
sions to the little colony came slowly. Even the fine harbor could not compensate for 
the disadvantages of Drowned Meadow for building purposes, and the hillsides are steep 
and rocky. But about 1797, when it is said there were only half a dozen houses in the 
village, shipbuilding was begun, and its subsequent rise was comparatively rapid. 

Securely though it seems to repose among its wood-crowned hills, it has had at least 
one exciting episode in its history. During the war of 18 12 its shipping suffered consid- 
erably at the hands of King George's cruisers, and one night the enemy entered the 
harbor and captured seven sloops that were lying there at anchor. Otherwise, life at Port 
Jefferson appears to have been as it is now, unexciting and peaceful. Its attractions are 
in part those of association, but chiefly those of Nature — its sandy shore, its still woods, 
and its placid bay. It is a place to fly to when the only conception of immediate happi- 
ness is to be still, to float idly upon water that has no waves to detract from the perfection 




CABIN IN THE WOODS ABOVE POQUOTT. 



26 



THE NORTH SHORE. 



of a dream of absolute rest, or to seek shelter and eloquent quiet in deep and shady 
woods. There are several winding paths that lead up the hilly promontory of Oakwood, 
and there are clearings upon the high ground swept over by breezes from the Sound 
where one can look upon rural scenes as perfect in their way as imagination can picture. 




IJUCE RONKONKOMA. 



To the west of the village, pathways lead through the woods and past many ruined 
and ruinous cabins. The latter are chiefly occupied by negroes, who enjoy the sweets of 
liberty in these sequestered nooks. It is questionable if emancipation in any way bettered 
their condition. The Dutch introduced slaves into Long Island immediately upon set- 



THE NORTH SHORE. 27 

tling on its western extremity, but it is said upon good autliority — and the fact is a nota- 
ble one in the history of the island — that slavery never existed there except in name. 
The work of the farms and houses was divided with the utmost impartiality amon^'- the 
nominal slaves and the white men and boys of the household. Possibly, then, there is 
not only no dark background to the lives of these Port Jefferson negroes, but one that in 
comfort and happiness is a contrast to the present. One little fellow — a darklino- he 
should be called — peeped out shyly as we passed, and then disappeared in a hut which, 
though embowered in creeping plants and bushes, did not suggest either comfort or 
beauty when the trees are bare and the winds of winter are moaning through the woods. 
Beyond these cabins the path leads to the pebbly and shell-covered shore of Poquott. 

To the east of Port Jefferson the shore runs in bolder outline to Orient Point, but 
within thirty or forty miles to the west there are innumerable points and well-sheltered 
bays and inlets that give the scenery the same picturesque character that is found at Port 
Jeft'erson. It may be taken, in short, as representing the northern side of the island. 

When the shore is left a few miles behind, the country assumes an entirely different 
aspect. The roads run through a wide tract covered as far as the eye can see with young 
timber and brushwood. In places the charred trunks give evidence that it has at no dis- 
tant period been passed over by a forest-fire. The view to the south is bounded by the 
low range of hills that runs nearly the entire length of the island. In a hollow in this 
rising ground, a few miles east of Comae Hills, about two miles northeast of Mount 
Pleasant and near the eastern continuation of the Comae range, we drop suddenly upon 
the most charming of the lakes of Long Island — Ronkonkoma. It matters little from 
which side it is approached or from what point it is viewed — Lake Ronkonkoma is in 
every way and in every aspect beautiful. Around it on all sides is an undulating country 
comprising both woodland and farm, and dotted with quaint old houses of the many- 
gabled order, and a few that affect a certain latter-day primness. The architectural 
patriarchs and juveniles represent two different orders of things. The first tell of the 
early colonists of two hundred years ago making their way through the dense woods from 
the northern shore, and choosing dwellings by the lake where the land was good. The 
latter tell of later settlers, attracted solely by the beauty and salubrity of the place. 
There is one house still standing on the east side of the lake, a weather-beaten veteran 
of a centur)' and a half. It has been in the same family ever since it was built, and if 
its walls were as eloquent of facts as they are of sentiment, it could no doubt unfold a 
varied tale. The place has, of course, a history based upon Indian times. Where we 
now see boats and skiffs, canoes were once paddled, and the lonely seclusion of the lake 
is said to have made it the theme of many an Indian story. Only one legend now sur- 
vives. The lake has always been, and is now, well stocked with fish, and it is in places 
so deep that the Indians thought it unfathomable. With a curious kind of veneration 
they believed that the Great Spirit brought the fish that swarm in its waters, and kept 
them under his special care. Even when the whites came upon the scene the red men 
clung to their superstition, and would not catch nor eat the fish, believing them to be 
superior beings. 

A change has come over the spot since that day. The land near the lake has been 
partially cleared, but not to such an extent as to divest it of any of its early beauty. A 
fringe of trees encloses it on all sides except the north, where a narrow belt of sand 
■divides it from a lily pond. It is from that feature, and from the glistening western 
shore, that the lake was called Ronkonkoma (Sand Pond). At the point where it first 
bursts upon the traveler from the south, it is seen gleaming through the trees like a dia- 



28 THE NORTH SHORE. 

mond in a robe of green. Standing upon its margin, we are about fifty feet above the 
sea, and the cool wind that is rustling among the trees comes fresh from the Great South 
Bay, seven miles away. To right and left are high tree-covered banks, and to the north 
across the lake, about a mile off, the white sand is shining like a line of silver. The 
trees above the eastern shore are reflected as in a mirror, and the little boat with its 
snowy sail is there in duplicate, itself and double. 

But to be seen at its best, Ronkonkoma should be viewed from one of the higher 
points along its eastern shore when the sun is sloping down the western sky. One 
memorable evening this view was so beautiful as to be almost unearthly. The sun had 
sunk behind a heavy cloud-bank, which it tipped with a dull tawny red. By and by the 
sky began to change. The cloud sank lower, and lay upon the horizon in a perfectly 
black mass that threw its shadow upon the landscape. Its lining had deepened in color 
to a blood-red, and the clouds higher up the arch of the sky were ringed with a rich crim- 
son border. Higher still they shaded off into paler tints, mingled with a copper-like hue 
that merged in the lighter clouds into gold. Above these were fleecy, rounded fragments 
of cloud floating over the deep blue like burnished brass upon lapis lazuli ; and higher 
yet, about midway to the zenith, every cloudlet was tinged with pale yellow. Could such 
a sky be represented on canvas, it would be condemned as unnatural — a case of the 
painter's imagination carrying him beyond the limits of true art. But it was from the 
reflection in the lake that the scene derived its weird, supernatural character. The 
shadows lay heavily upon the trees and bank that line the western shore. Upon the 
edge of the waters, which were so still that not a ripple waved the line drawn upon the 
white streak of sand, the deep red of the cloud upon the horizon reappeared. Nearer 
were the graduated tints of crimson, copper, gold, brass and pale yellow, eveiy hue 
mirrored in the crystal lake with a fidelity so perfect that one was in doubt whether the 
reality or the reflection Avere the more gorgeous. 

To the east and west of the lake, for twenty miles on either side of it, stretches a 
pleasant tract, chiefly of rolling woodland, with here and there a farm or garden. 
Wherever the land has been cleared and brought under cultivation, it appears to give 
ample return to the husbandman. But the least-observant traveler can hardly help being 
struck by the sight of a few fields of apparently healthy grain surrounded by miles of 
brushwood. It is a mystery not yet satisfactorily solved, how within fifty miles of a city 
like New York so much land should be left unproductive and untilled. All the evidence, 
both of experiment and of opinion, goes to show that the soil, if not the richest in the 
world, is far too good to be given over to scrubby bushes and luxuriant weeds. 



CONCERNING THE HAMPTONS AND 
JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. 




O lovelier stretch of country, none more pleasing to the eye of artist or poet, 
none more peaceful and poetically happy in its outward expression, or more 
varied and interesting in its contour and color, is to be found anywhere along 
our Eastern Coast, than lies between the Shinnecock Hills and Montauk, The 
people that go there in numbers for the summer months have not robbed it of its charms 
nor modernized it into commonplace. One still boards, if not in a house that is over two 




"home, sweet home!" — Payne's interior. 

hundred years old, at least in one that is simple and unpretentious. These Hamptons 
are no hackneyed watering-places, and people who want the glitter and excitement of 
Long Branch or Saratoga are solemnly warned away from there. For those, however, 
who want rest and wholesome recreation in the summer season, who like to be 
surrounded by healthful and happy influences, there is no place like them. 

Every visitor to Easthampton, which one reaches easily from Bridgehampton station 
by stage, will read with interest the local reminiscence of John Howard Payne, secured 
by the artists, already referred to, during their sojourn there last June. We quote it in 
full from Scribner's Monthly. 



30 



CONCERNING THE HAMPTONS 




A BELLE OF BRIDGEHAMPTON. 

(^By permission of Messrs. Scribner &' Co.) 



That afternoon the club arrived at Easthampton. The town consisted of a single 
street, and the street was a lawn. An immense fapi's vert of rich grass, green with June^ 

and set with tapering poplar trees, was bor- 
dered on either side of its broad expanse 
by ancestral cottages, shingled to the ground 
with mossy squares of old gray '• shakes " — 
the primitive split shingles of antiquity. The 
sides of these ancient buildings, sweeping- 
to the earth from their gabled eaves in the 
curves of old age, and tapestried with their 
faded lichens, were more tent-like than house- 
like. The illimitable grassy lawn, swept 
with racing breezes at their feet, stretched, 
east and west to infinity. Not the War- 
wickshire landscape, not that enchanted 
stretch from Stratford to Shottery, which 
was Shakspere's lovers' walk, is more pastor- 
ally lovely. 

Every other house in these secluded vil- 
lages is more than two hundred years old. 
They last like granite, — weather-beaten, torn to pieces, and indestructible. They alter- 
nate with smart cottages covered with the intensest paint. " Pretty as a painted boat "^ 
is the beach-dwellers' ideal of elegance, and the garish freshness that appropriately con- 
stitutes the comeliness and the salvation of a boat is naturally the artistic standard in 
land-architecture too. The aesthetic sense of a town is divided between an ancestral 
feeling which approves the tattered old pavilions of Queen Charlotte's day — valuing these 
mossy tents for their raggedness as if they were old lace — and new clapboards constantly 
deluged and sluiced v/ith paint. It is the mariner's simple fidelity, true to the kindred 
purities of holy-stone and hearth-stone. 

They found the village of Easthampton devoted to a sort of adtiis of the author of 
" Home, Sweet Home." Every elderly person remembered him, every young person 
proposed to be a guide to the poet's haunts. 

This mother of the bard, a Jewess, was not without a historical and ancestral connec- 
tion. She was the daughter of a rich Jew from Hamburg, who was ruined by the 
American Revolution. The wife of the Hamburg exile was a Miss Hedges, and this 
lady had an American brother who became, by the death of the possessor of the title. 
Earl of Dysart. When an agent came to this country to identify the American heir, the 
unwitting wearer of the dignity was already dead, having been but for a few weeks- 
unconsciously an earl. He left a family of daughters only, so the estate reverted to the 
Crown. Still, the poet's grandmother was, for a month, sister to the Earl of Dysart^ 
The family of Isaacs still exists in Easthampton ; their tradition is that Payne's grand- 
father, with the caution of a merchant of his race, always kept his books in Hebrew. The 
excursionists will never hereafter be able to think of the spendthrift Payne without 
seeing a vision behind him of the Hebrew Isaacs with the scales and the coins, and the 
ledgers in Chaldean cipher. 

Payne's father at one time taught in the ancient school-house, but in the poet's youth 
the incumbent of the professor's chair was an old maid of the most vinegarish descrip- 
tion. This dreadful beldam, Miss Phebe Filer, taught Payne that careful spelling and 



AND JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. 3X 

that exquisite chirography which were afterward to bear the burden of the lines now 
written all over the world. Her methods of suasion were entirely moral. She used to 
frighten the quick fancy of the future bard by stories of the " sarpients and scorpings " 
which haunted the closets and cellars of the school. 

" Howard's voice was squealing, in conversation," said an Easthampton patriarch, 
" but when he recited poetry it got deep, very deep. As a young man, he was the 
handsomest lad on Long Island, but when I last saw him all that was changed. He was 
older than me, and he walked about with his head down, so." 

The old neighbor's impression of Payne's personal comeliness was not exaggerated. 
"The success of Master Betty," says Leslie's Autobiography, "excited a youth in 
America, like Betty, of handsome features and graceful manners, and with a charming 
voice, to come forward as an American Young Roscius. I saw Payne play Romeo 'in. 
Philadelphia, and was perfectly delighted. Whether he equaled Betty on the stage, I 
know not ; but he was superior to him off the stage, for while yet in his teens, he became 
the editor of a newspaper or magazine — I forget which — and was a favorite associate of 
the foremost literar)^ men in Boston, New York and Philadelphia." 

This extract backs handsomely the personal claims of the young carpenter of East- 
hampton. The villagers relate that when Payne, fresh from the old school that is now 
the town-house, wrung permission from his reluctant father to go upon the stage, the 
good schoolmaster, William Payne, stood m tears behind the coulisses, irrepressibly 
weeping, while the public frantically applauded. He could hardly bear the spectacle of 
that dazzling first night. 

" Whether Payne was a duiifer or a "brick," said the " Owl," with unusual solemnity, 
" and whether ' Home, Sweet Home,' is a consecrated liturgy or a detected bore, I move 
we give the old boy a chorus. Let's sing Payne's cradle-song around Payne's cradle ! " 

But the culpable levity with which they treated poor Payne and his legend, marked 
as it was by night, could not stand before the evidence accumulated by the daylight. 
It faded gradually away, and gave place to a vivid interest, an eager and even a 
fierce partisanship. 

"Fellows! I've found his house!" burst out '•Polyphemus," triumphantly, in the 
morning. " That house last night was an infamous pretender." 

So they trooped off to see the genuine home of Howard Payne, the hearth where he 
was really cradled and dandled and reared. They marched in a body down the village 
street to a certain distance eastward from the inn, singing in half-voice as they went 
their jingling" balderdash: 

" Cr-rack ! snap ! goes the whip ; I whistle and I sing. 
I sit upon the wagon, I am happy as a king. 
My horse is always willing ; as for me, I'm never sad. 
• There's no one leads an 'appier life than Jemmy, the corrter's lad." 

Received with the easiest and pleasantest welcome at the antique homestead, they 
went on to make it their own, artist-fashion. Two or three proceeded to crowd each 
other up the wide fire-place in their efforts to secure a good position to sketch this 
nucleus, this ganglion, this node, this vital center of the whole Paj^ne legend. They 
made various studies of the ample hearth, with its fine velvet pall of black soot, as other 
artists, indeed, had abundantly done before them. They plunged at the well, they 
assaulted the hen-coop, they crept around the garden to paint the vine-shaded parlor 



32 CONCERNING THE HAMPTONS 

windows at which little Howard had been held up by the fair Jewess to gaze out 
xipon the world. 

Meanwhile the " O'Donoghue " and " Chestnut," who had disappeared with airs of 
mystery, were off on another scent. In due time they returned, and offered to introduce 
the " Owl " and " Polyphemus " to a lady whose acquaintance they had just had the 
honor of making — the " little sweetheart" of John Howard Payne. 

It was a happy and a pathetic encounter, that with the handsome, dark, bright-eyed 
elderly lady, with hair scarcely touched with gray, who sat in a roomy parlor, pensively 
lingering old letters of Payne's, in almost all of which she was spoken of in mock adora- 
tion as his child Dulcinea. Prettily proud, cheerful, living gladly in that grandest 
memory of her life, she might have been addressed as Ronsard addressed the lady in 

Thackeray's lyric : 

" Old tales are told, old songs are sung, 
Old days come back to memory, 
You say : when I was fair and young, 
A poet sang of me ! " 

This was the petted " Rosalie," who, as a romping school-girl, had received the most 
extravagant devotion of the song-inaker. The lips on which his kiss still lingered had not 
lost their red. Her boxes were full of his home letters, letters exhibiting him in the best 
of lights, as the exiled villager yearning for his little hamlet. They are written with a 
light touch, with abundant dashes of wit that is not very costly, with a thorough sense of 
what will please the kind townspeople who will hear them, with perpetually welling 
memories of John, and Dick, and Harry, who will be tickled to get messages from Tunis 
or from Washington. They are now full of the minute inquiries that ever fill the rustic 
intelligence office —about Doctor Buell and Deacon Sherrill, and Mr. Akerly, the teacher 
of French. Now and always, they are full of " the ladies." "To the ruins of Carthage," 
lie says "once in speaking of a school celebration at Easthampton, " a copy of Picket's 
'Academician ' happened to drift, and I to open it at the page recording academical 
honors to Anicartha Miller and Julia Sands ! " 

Is there not something human and likeable in this revelation of the unsuccessful 
grizzled, bankrupt bachelor, jaded with the opera, jaded with the drama, jaded with 
politics, jaded with life, sitting upon Carthage with Marius, and musing upon Ani- 
cartha and Julia as they flutter up in their best lutestrings to receive a country 
academy's diplomas ? 

The earliest letter of the batch is jocosely addressed on the outside, to the village 
postmistress, apparently : " Miss Joann Miller, behind the counter very busily opening 
all the letter-bags for an office-full of the citizens of Easthampton." The same missive 
is signed in character : " I have the honor to be, madam, your very faithful and devoted 
deputy-postmaster, John Howard Payne." This sheet is dated 1834. 

Thenceforward and for fifteen years,— till 1849,— there is a steady stream of allusions 
to the little (but growing) Rosalie. Every message is in a tone of playful courtship, 
adapted at first to the fascinating fairy of a child's party, but deepening in tone and 
"becoming whimsically despondent as the sweet " object " develops, and finally yields to 
the inevitable laws of absence and distance. " I thank Miss Rosalie for inviting me to 
a game of loto," he says in 1834, he being then forty-two, and the maiden perhaps 
fourteen. A year or two after, he remarks : " It is reported that Mr. Akerly is teaching 
my little (but she has ceased to be little) Rosalie French." In later years he grows still 
fonder, but acknowledges the increased age of his pet by calling her " Mamma " and 



AND yOHN HOWARD PAYNE. 33 

"*' Mrs." His kisses now were the safe kisses of a grizzled, elderly bachelor. " Pray tell 
Mrs. Rosalie," he writes at fifty-six, '-if ever I go to her village again I shall insist on 
the rest of the kiss of which I was in part defrauded." Alas ! when the swain is nearing 
sixty, girls don't particularly remember whether his kisses were completed or not ; he is 
welcome to finish them if he thinks tll^y need it. But earlier than this he seems to 
acknowledge already that this protracted make-believe has been given the sack. *' I 
have persuaded Aunty and Mr. and Mrs. Isaacs to join and try to revive the recollection 
of me * * * the chief obstacle to such a visit would be the news I hear of your sister 
Rosalie ! They say she has jilted me, and has given herself away to some one else, 
when I really expected she would reserve herself for me. This is the unkindcst * cut ' 
of all." That is in 1839. In 1849 he is calm again, and writes formally, like an old 
man : " My best remembrance to your Mamma and to Mamma Rosalie." But a few 
years previously he is still on the rack, asking, with the whim of mock misery strongly 
upon him : " Am I to be utterly forsaken ? Does even Miss Rosalie treat me with cold 
contempt ? " And taking the trouble to add to this, in his neat old-time writing, a quota- 
tion of half a dozen lines from Pope, to the effect that " A wife is the jDeculiar gift 
of heaven." 

But it may be time to put a period to these specimens of what was considered, in those 
Lalla Rookh and bulbul days, the smart and flattering gallantry of an old, once graceful 
beau, toward a rosebud less ripe by some thirty years or so. Rosalie's documents have 
another side, showing Payne, the foot-ball of fortune, the wall-flower at life's festival whom 
success never joined and engaged for a dance, as a critic, a traveler, or a politician. 

In a letter of 1848 Payne remarks: "I am electioneering now on every side for an 
appointment under General Taylor." The consulship to Tunis, we know, was the plum 
he secured. In this strangely chosen post, the broken-down actor showed a little of 
the ostentation of a beggar on horseback. The Bey, quite terrified by his incessant 
and theatrical threats, — doubtless delivered with swelling eloquence borrowed from old 
recitations of Othello, — and not forgetting either the disquieting thought of the Admiral 
from America, Decatur, truckled to him amusingly, and built him a huge new palace, 
finer than his own. Payne was forced to leave his romantic abode after a short resi- 
dence, and to come back to Washington, for the adjustment of certain political disputes ; 
these arranged, he returned to his post, and died directly in his palace in dream-land, 
April 9th, 1852, So short was his day of glor)M Only in 1850 we find in Rosalie's 
letters, "I am looking after my nomination for Tunis." This is in a missive from Wash- 
ington, where he also says, " Miss Bremer was here, and I saw her often," — mentioning 
Grace Greenwood too, and Anna C. Lynch, and Mrs. Southworth, whom he greatly 
admired. In 1848 he was in New York, while Macready was playing; he probably felt 
some natural chagrin to find Macready applauded in Knowles' Virginius ; his own Vir- 
giiiius — where the same plot had tempted the greatest actors, and been acclaimed from 
the same boards — forgotten. At any rate, he writes, coldly and weariedly : " The latest 
wonder here is Macready ; but I have not heard him. My interest in theatrical glories 
has subsided entirely." 

But the tone of fatigue never appears in his reminiscences of Easthampton ; that 
magic name conjures up his spirits directly : the old neighbors, the old festivals, the old 
legends, — most sacred of all, to the exile, the old jokes. What can carry the absentee 
home so quickly as the ancient jest of his village — the well-worn, the oft-exploited, the 
never-failing? Thus his pet name for Easthampton is "Goose-heaven," and he harps 
aipon the idea eternally. 



34 CONCERNING THE HAMPTONS 

There was a side of superstition to the poor player's character — no uncommon thing- 
in the profession. ''A conjuring letter," he says in 1848, "has prophesied most favor- 
able changes in my destiny, to commence next year. A pretty niece of Rosalie's apropos 
of this brought out an old-fashioned conjuring-book, quite large, and elaborately printed 
with pages of magic numbers, which was Payne's gift when he was alive and hoiking for 
the turn of fortune. A blear-eyed, tottering old man, another relative, opened the wizard 
pages, and applied the numerical cards, as Payne in his youth had taught him, to the 
tabular prophecies. The tourists diligently came up in turn to have their destinies told. 
When he, with his palsied hands, succeeded in adjusting the cards to the much-promising 
tables, he looked up at his consulter, his eyes wide, watering and triumphant. Evidently, 
in his mind, he had made the fortunes of a whole troop of New York artists. 

The dark-veined hands of the ancient boatman turned the pages of Payne's wizard- 
book. Payne's little sweetheart, a handsome country lady, untied his yellow letters. 
The presence of the indigent player became very real in this atmosphere. 

" Mr. Payne used to say," observed Rosalie, " that he employed more intrigue to 
conceal his poverty than all the diplomacy used at Washington. I can remember him 
when he was a most beautiful man," she pursued, " and with such a complexion, very 
delicate. It is strange he should have liked me, for I was a black girl." 

This English phrase, perhaps, is seldom heard in America. But Rosalie had derived 
it direct from her Kentish ancestors. Her home-village had been settled by a party of 
Kentish pilgrims, who bought the town plot in 1648, and at first called it Maidstone,, 
from Maidstone in Kent. The old families of Easthampton were of the Pilgrim stock,, 
settling at first at Plymouth, but afterward removing to chosen spots along the Long 
Island shore, the Kentish group choosing this lovely retreat. Our tourists constantly 
heard old English phrases that struck them, and these would be delivered in a conspicu- 
ously New England accent and pronunciation. 

Gradually the feelings of the visitors changed toward the hymnist of Home. The 
image of a shapely, tall-foreheaded man began to haunt their imaginations, with sparse 
locks studiously arranged around his temples ; probably wearing corsets ; occasionally 
concealing the absence of buttons in his double-breasted coats by thrusting his hand in 
his bosom, Lamartine-fashion ; modish and dilapidated ; calling this populace of boat- 
men and fishmongers his cousins, his uncles and his comrades, without a bit of shame. 
Pacing this rural street "with his head down, so," its brain-pan revolving thoughts of. 
past tinsel glories, when Kean had thrilled mighty London audiences with his Brutus, 
and Charles Kemble had gained two thousand pounds in twenty months by the copyright 
of a certain song in " Clari, or the Maid of Milan ! " 

Payne declared that he had first heard the tune of " Home, Sweet Home " from the 
lips of a Sicilian peasant girl, who sang it artlessly as she sold some sort of Italian wares,, 
and touched his fine ear by the purity of her voice. It is pleasant to think he did not 
crib it from any old opera, but had a certain proprietorship in the air, as well as the. 
words, of the most popular song extant. 

The " home " he was thinking of, as he traced the deathless lyric in some London- 
rookery, was undoubtedly Easthampton. A few years later, he expanded its opening 
words in a magazine description of his native town. " Many an eye wearied with the 
glare of foreign grandeur," he wrote ("Democratic Review," February, 1838), "will, ere 
long, lull itself to repose in the quiet beauty of this village." The stenciled expressions 
of " foreign grandeur," and " eyes wearied with the glare," what are they but repetitions 
of the opening of both stanzas — the " pleasures and palaces " of stanza one, " the exile 



AND JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. 35 

from home splendor dazzles in vain," of stanza two ? Easthampton is what supplies the 
sentiment, the type, the foil, the contrast of the song. Easthampton still exists, just as 
he knew it, like a vignette perpetuated in electrotype. The " tavern-sign in the center 
of the road" is gone, though, which he described "swinging between the two posts," — 
"while the geese strut with slow and measured stateliness to their repose." The geese 
still parade down the grassy street, getting between the visitor's legs every minute, and 
are as obtrusive as they are in Payne's letters and descriptions. 

Yes — it is an unromantic discovery, but there cannot be a doubt of it — " the birds 
singing sweetly," of Payne's ballad, " that came at my call," were ganders, and their 
sweetness was a hiss. 

From the age of thirteen, when he left the ample hearth of his father's house here, 
the hymnist of " Home " was homeless ; that is, until the theatrical structure of his latter 
months arose at the command of the Afrites, and he lay down to die in his Arabian 
Night's palace, hungering for the thatch, '• the sooty chimney-throat of this delicious cot." 



ABOUT MONTAUK AND THE LAST 
OF THE MONTAUKETTS. 




ONTAUK has probably more of a romantic and poetic character than any other 
part of the Island, and it undoubtedly possesses a greater picturesque interest 
than any portion of the Atlantic sea-coast line from Florida to Maine. This 
would appear to be hardly consistent with the comparative obscurit}'' in which 
it has so long remained, and the fact that very few tourists have found their way there. 
This must be attributed to the difficulty experienced in reaching Montauk, and to a 

certain extent to the limited accommodations to 
be found there. " Osborne's," " Stratton's," 
and the Lighthouse give very good accommoda- 
tions in their way, but their customers have 
chiefly been people who have gone, down to 
shoot or fish. Camping parties from Connec- 
ticut and Rhode Island visit the Point by boats, 
put up their tents and indulge in an unlimited 
fish and game regimen for weeks. In the sum- 
mer Montauk is delightful. The atmosphere is 
cool and not a fly or a mosquito is to be found. 
Plenty of the former pests are to be found upon 
Neapeague Beach, and which one has to drive 
to after leaving Narragansett. They are as bad 
there as in the traditional Louisiana Swamp, 
but as soon as the rising ground of Montauk is 
reached, they one and all completely disappear. 
Montauk resembles what in England are called 
*' downs," and is one vast pasturage. It presents the appearance of a series of rolling hills 
all carpeted with rich grass, through which here and there gray boulders project, and varied 
by innumerable lakelets, some of which are of considerable extent, embracing many acres 
and being famous places for wild geese and trout. On the Sound side the shore is a gradual 
sandy slope, but on the Atlantic side it consists of abrupt and lofty cliffs of every variety 
of outline, and tenanted by countless colonies of martens, whose nests rude explorers 
find far too accessible and ruthlessly despoil. There is no place where the profitable 
occupation of day-dreaming can be better followed than about the tops of these cliffs, 
where the grass is rich and the sea-breeze ceases never; the great ocean beating 

36 




KING SYLVESTER. 



ABOUT MO NT A UK. 



37 



hoarsely at one's feet, and the boulders and the shingle of the beach ringing in incessant 
harmony with the rhythm of its songs. When the wind is fair an endless procession of 
white-sailed ships goes past, coming up over the horizon in the West or behind Block 
Island in the East, and disappearing dreamily as they came, like silent visions of the sea. 
Alontauk is threatened with capital and a railroad and hotels and roads, but not all 
these to"-ether can ever quite efface its romance, and never its native beauty. 




MONTAUK LIGHTHOUSE. 



Of the remnant of the Indians that still remain at Montauk, Miss Young writes 
in Lippincott : 

" Here and there we pass a pond, and often startle the cattle that graze over the 
greater part of Montauk ; and at length pause, spell-bound by the view from the hills 
looking down upon Fort Pond, or Kongonock. The road runs past its southern 
extremity, where, until the embankment was built, the ocean-surf frequently broke 



38 



ABOUT MONTAUK. 



across ; and after passing this plain, called Fithian's, we find ourselves a very short 
distance south of the site of the old Indian village. The hill about halfway between the 
two ends of the pond on its eastern side was once occupied by an Indian fort, and 
between it and us lies the valley where were clustered the wigwams of Wyandanch and 
his tribe. He figures in history as the staunch and often severely-tried ally of the whites, 
and was the lifelong friend of Lion Gardiner. His warriors were, hyperbolically, ' as 
many as the spires of the grass ' until reduced by sickness and battle. The Narragan- 
setts pursued him with an insatiate and vindictive hate, and this peaceful valley was once 
the scene of a bloody tragedy from which the Montauketts never recovered. Wyahdanch 




KING DAVID FARO AND FAMILY. 



had pursued a party of Narragansetts to Block Island, and killed a great number of them. 
To retaliate, Ninicraft (or Ninigret) invaded Montauk, and on the night of the nuptials of 
the chief's daughter fell upon the village, burned, sacked, and slew, and, in spite of 
Wyandanch's bravery, totally defeated his followers. Among the fallen was the bride- 
groom, and beside his dead body the invaders found the bride in a stupor of grief. She 
was hurried away, an unresisting captive, but was ultimately restored to her father by the 
exertions of Lion Gardiner. In 1659, Wyandanch died from the effects of poison, and 
with him went out the glory of his tribe. Piece after piece, the lands he had held were 
ceded to the whites, and the royal line of Faro came to an end. In 18 19 ' King' Stephen 
died, and was buried by subscription. His distinctive badge consisted of a yellow ribbon 
round his hat. After him others reigned, and although the royal family long ago became 
extinct, the name of king or chief is still retained. The late holder of the title was David 
Faro, and he reigned over two families, his own and the Fowlers. He will probably be 



ABOUT MONTAUK. 



39 



succeeded by his cousin Stephen, an athletic gentleman and a full-blooded Indian, who 
is said to have walked in one day from Brooklyn to Montauk, and who thinks little of 
stepping from Montauk to Bridgehampton, thence to Sag Harbor for dinner, and so on 
back to Montauk. The late chief left a widow and five children. The eldest is a boy 
named Wyandanch, who occasionally visits the few houses on the peninsula and the 
nearest villages, selling berries. The queen's mother and the rest of the tribe are 
basket-makers. The second of David's children is Maggie Arabella, a pleasant-faced 
girl with thick-set figure ; the third and fourth are bright-eyed boys, Samuel Powhattan 
and Ebenezer Tecumseh ; and the fifth is a child of about six months, Sarah Pocahontas, 
Besides these there are the present king, Stephen, and his son Samuel. King Sylvester 
preceded David, so that we are in possession of the likenesses of three of the line of 
sachems. Ephraim Fowler, a son of Sylvester, also survives. Of the other family of 
Fowlers, there are the husband and wife and their four children, three sons and a 
daughter. Such, so far as I know, is a complete census of the tribe of Montauketts. 
Th&ir possessions are small and their way of living rude. Ichabod ! Ichabod ! " 



The Tile Club article in " Scribner's Monthly " furnished the following, which will 
interest all who may visit Montauk : 

The roads hereabout are full of legends of the Indians, — those powerful Montauketts, 
*'■ tall, proud, straight, warlike," who used to fight the Narragansetts and all the red legions 
from the main-land. A little to the north of Easthampton, on the Sag Harbor road, our 
tourists had visited a spot called "Whooping Boy's Hollow." Here, in the old times, an 
Indian chief's son was murdered. The road just here passes through a pine wood, and 
this grove is vocal after night-fall with child- 
ish screams, to the discomposure of stage- 
drivers and belated urchins. The artists, 
determined not to destroy the illusion, re- 
frained from staying until the hour when the 
manifestations take place. 

Midway between Easthampton and Mon- 
tauk our travelers passed the terrible Leba- 
non cedar, thrusting up its flat, table-like 
top on the wide, sandy heath, whose closely- 
knit and tufted twigs can sustain the ominous 
number of thirteen persons as on a platform. 
"It is immortalized," says Payne, "by a 
wild tale of Indian massacre and miraculous 
escape." This is another form of the legend 
of Fort Pond (otherwise Kongonock), or 
the event may have happened at both local- 
ities. A little to the west of Kongonock, 
at any rate, is the old Indian burial-ground. 
Near it is one of the legendary foot-prints 
in the rock. In the early ages of the Montauketts, one of the tribe, whose reputation 
was ruined and whose life forfeited by some act of crime, fled to this spot, and, placing 
liis foot upon the rock, sprang forward into the valley, which opened to receive him, while 
a spring gushed forth for the first time. The other stor^^ of a leaper's foot-prints, and 
which may be either located at Fort Pond, as a variorum edition, or, if the reader prefer, 




the sweetheart of john howard tavne. 

(from bas-relief model in clay, by w. r. o'donovan.) 

(By kind permission 0/ Messrs. Scribner b' Co.) 



40 



ABOUT MONTAUK. 



by Whooping Boy's Hollow, is of darker omen still. The hero is the devil. At a " pow- 
wow," at which a renegade Puritan or two assisted, the devil was driven from the feast in^ 
time for the salvation of these white spectators' souls, and marked his horrid foot-print in 
his three several leaps ; whether cloven or not (the foot being presented simply in an 
Indian translation of the devil, as it were), the traces are hardly distinct enough to show. 
The youthful driver dutifully pointed out the Enchanted Cedar, and he knew all about 
Whooping Boy's Hollow. But his remembrance of the various indentations — sachem's- 




MOONLIGHT ON EASTHAMPTON BEACH. 

{^By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner b" Co.) 

head-rests, devil's prints, or what not — were all resolved into one legendary impression^ 
of a painfully unpoetic character. 

"Old Teeny's Hole," said Tradition, in the person of this lad, "is here, just by Flat 
Top Tree ; it is a little before you get to the tree. Old people at Montauk remember 
Teeny. He was an Indian, and he fell down drunk here, and drownded in six inches of 
water." 

The carriages passed the long, close, thicket-bordered beach of Napeague, with its 



ABOUT MONTAUK. 



4r 




A SCHOOL IN SIGHT. 



swarms of mosquitoes. To the left were the Nommonock hills; before them, Hither 
Wood. Emerging from the inclosed region 
and the pressure of damp, tropical vegeta- 
tion, our tourists came out upon a scene of 
freshness and uncontaminated splendor, such 
as they had no idea existed a hundred miles 
from New York. The woods rolled glori- 
ously over the hills, wild as those around 
the Scotch lakes ; noble amphitheaters of 
'tree-tufted mountains, raked by roaring 
winds, caught the changing light from a 
cloud-swept heaven ; all was pure nature, 
fresh from creation. The beach they skirted 
was wild and stern, with magnificent preci- 
pices. From the steep clifTs they often after- 
ward dug out the nests of the sand-martins, 
occasionally disclosing a delicate o.^^, or a 
timid fledgeling, lying perdu in his gallery, 
two feet back from his little round vestibule. 
And so, resting alternately at " Stratton's " 
and at the house of the light-keeper, they 
finally made the extremity of Montauk 
Point, and the great Fresnel lantern, against 
which the sea-birds and the giant dragon- 
flies often dash out their little lives. 

The convex table-land at Montauk Cape is set with two great, gem-like lakes, miles 
in extent, and named respectively Great Pond and Fort Pond. Fort Pond was the 
scene of a mighty battle in the Narragansetts' campaign against the Montauketts. The 
latter, staunch allies as they were of the neighboring white family of Gardiner, on 
the island of that name, were on the point of being beaten, and the Saxon settlers left 

to the cruelty of hos- 
tile tribes, when a 
friendly rally was 
made by the Fire 
Island Indians, who 
drove off the Narra- 
gansetts to their ca- 
noes. 

This friendly, and 
once-valorous Mon- 
tauk tribe is reduced 
to a pitiful handful. 
The tourists found 
them, however, still 
herding the cattle for 
their old neighbors of 
„ Easthampton, around 

MONTAUK LIGHT. ' ' 

{,By kind Permission of Messrs. Scribner &= Co.) the frcsll banks of 



{By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner &' Co.) 




42 



ABOUT MO NT A UK. 



Kongonock Lake. The last king, Pharaoh, was dying in a wind-swept cabin, all alone 
by the pond-side. Our tourists invaded this royal residence. 

They thought little of the intrusion at first ; the majesty of Indian kingship does not 
produce unmixed awe. So they trooped up to the house of unpainted clapboards, under 
whose eaves salted eels, and cheguit or weak-fish, were fastened up to dry. " Queen 
Amelia," a pleasant-faced mulattress, was on her knees in the entry, scrubbing. To pass 
into the presence of the chief was no more than to step into the unfastened common- 
room. Here, on a clean bed, lay an invalid figure that compelled them to reverence. 

King David Pharaoh was lying as still as a marble image, on the outside of the bed- 
clothes ; only his eyes moved around, quick and brilliant. He had on a bright striped 
sporting-shirt ; his legs were stretched out parallel with each other ; seeming just 




FLAT TOP TREE. 
(By kind permission of Messrs. Scribner df Co.') 



as thin as their bones, in the clean trowsers of jute bagging. His neat, small, arched 
feet were bare, pointing lightly to left and right. His hollow face was of pure Indian 
type, but reduced almost to a skull. There was a small looking-glass, with a picture 
painted in the upper part of the frame. A colored lithographic head of " Clara " (recall- 
ing, if you choose, the heroine of Payne's lyric) decorated a frame near by, and there was 
another of a ship on fire. Over the dying man's head was a great colored lithographic 
broadside of cricketing costumes, pinned to the wall. 

The quietude, the ancestral type, of the moribund chief gave the intruders a shock, 
and the faith in its own privacy promulgated by the unguarded sick-bed made them feel 
like brutes. Off went the hats, we remember, for the first thing. Then one or two drew 
to the bed-head, and opened a low-voiced conversation. Suffering reduces the distinc- 
tions of caste, and this composed sufferer seemed far the superior, at that moment, of 
any man in the room. 

The tourists thought of the extinction of the Montauks, and rather brutally asked 
King Pharaoh if he had children. He rolled his glittering eyes from one to another, and 
slowly delivered an answer fraught with the gloomy considerations that must have been 
occupying his life. 



ABOUT MONTAUK, 



43 




1\ 



A\V<j> 



" Yes, yes. The boys don't all go out to 
sea. Some of them are left and get married. 
They'll keep us up a while longer." 

His voice here sank into an inaudible 
murmur; but his self-possession remained. 
An eager artist had taken out a sketch-book. 

"Would you object to having your por- 
trait taken, for us to remember you by ? " 

The answer was a withering criticism on 
the work of some previous artist. 

"Yes," he drawled slowly (with his senile 
deliberation at the age of forty). "I wouldn't like to 
There was an insulting sketch of me made some time ago. 
But there are all the photographs." 

And he looked toward the pictured group at the bed's foot, repre- 
senting himself and quadroon wife and several male children. 

It seemed to be a happy inspiration when somebody suggested a 
hymn. Two or three voices joined in a low litany, in Latin, and very 
beautiful. The man looked up when it was done, and said : 

"Thank you. But I don't understand it very well." 

Upon this the baritone singer of the party, the pet and flattered 
darling of them all for his consolmg talent, came gently forward. He 
had been retiring and invisible before, but now he came silently up to 
the pillow, and with an exquisite grace sang a religious anthem. He 
began in a low but controlled tone. The dying Indian looked startled 
at the thrilling music of the murmuring voice — a voice that has often 
held thronging congregations spell-bound with its solitary melody. The song was Faure's 
"Les Rameaux." The expiring chief listened to the musical combinations invented 
by France's incomparable " Mephistopheles," her versatile " Masaniello," her sublime 
" Hamlet." Whatever of merely operatic or borrowed character the music might have 
inherited from Faure, it had nothing but sincerity in it now, sung in English, with 
genuine and freshly-awakened feeling. As the " Rameaux " hymn proceeded to invoke 
all heathen nations to swell the triumph of the Conqueror of Peace, the red child of 

these western isles raised his eyes, bright and 
liquid. The invocation to " Humanity" in Faure's 
words was the first thing to attract his close atten- 
tion: 

" Around our way the palm-trees and the flowers 
Send forth their perfume on our festal daj-. 
His voice is heard, and nations at the sound 
Have now regained that freedom sought in v^ain ; 
Humanity shall ever^'where abound, 
For light to all the world is given again." 

The propaganda of this world-compelling song 
was probably never so exerted before. The In- 
dian, a man of no mean natural capacity, under- 
stood it, with a swift intuition. A soft choir joined 
STEPHEN, KING IN POSSE. from thc other musicians at the triumphal refrain : 



RECKLESS 
EXPLORATIONS. 

{^By kind per fnission 

o/ Messrs. 

Scribner Is' Co.) 




44 ABOUT MONTAUK. 

" Hosanna ! 

Glory to God ! 

Blessed is he who comes bearing Salvation !" 

It was music's invitation to those heathen proteges of Christianity whom Columbus 
found on our shores, and who have never since been perfectly at one with our religion. 
Its significance was perfectly felt by the listener, and naelod}^ by its own eloquence, was 
acting as no mean missionar}\ Few Christian churches, we fancy, have heard the song 
sung with such breadth, nobility, and inspiration, as this lonely Indian on the windy, sea- 
washed moor. His eyes closed as the delicious persuasion concluded, and the visitors 
filed silently and respectfully out of his house. 

The king died a few days after the visit of the Tile Painters. His title was worn not 
quite in vain, since the tribe he governed have really a right of occupancy on their prom- 
ontoiy — a right which Judge Dykman decides must be looked upon as an incumbrance 
to real title. The late king expressed a wish to see Sag Harbor before he died, was 
driven thither while in an expiring state, and succumbed on his return that evening. His 
cousin, Stephen Pharaoh, the sportsman, soldier, and finest pedestrian on Long Island^ 
succeeds him. 




.^ OF LONG ISLAND, BY AN " IMPRESSIONIST." 



THE SOUTH SIDE OF LONG ISLAND. 




Mr. William M. Tileston, who is one of the best writers that we have had upon field sports, 
is kind enough to contribute the following notes about the South Side of the Island : 

F there is any place on our coast which offers the same attractions to the sports- 
man, the tourist, or the summer visitor seeking amusement, as the South Side 
of Long Island, we have yet to find it. Its accessibility to New York the 
perfect healthfulness of its climate, and the variety of recreation offered ren- 
der it the most attractive of any spot we can call to mind. The Great South Bay, which 
is formed by the long strip of sandy beach stretching with but a single break for fifty or 
sixty miles, teems with fish and mollusks of every variety. Its waters, sheltered as they 
are, afford the finest imaginable sailing, and the myriads of boats which in summer dot 
its surface present a scene of life and gayety which cannot be equalled on our coast. Its 
bathing facilities, both surf and still water, are unrivaled, as are also the drives on the 
main island. New Yorkers have for years appreciated the advantages of this favored 
spot, and there are but few of the " old families " that have not residences in one locality 
or another. The summer resident is provided with a variety of amusements. If he is 
fond of sailing, there are the finest and safest boats in the world, with careful skippers, 
who, passing their lives on the Bay, and following the avocations of oystermen or fisher- 
men at other seasons, are not only familiar with the management of their boats, but with 
the channels and tides. The fishing, particularly since the pound-nets have been abol- 
ished, is simply superb. The bluefish, the gamest of our salt-water fishes, come into the 
Bay in June, and remain all summer. It is now the custom to take them with rod and 
reel, by the mode known as " chumming," and during last season from sevent}'-five to one 
hundred fish was but an ordinary catch for one boat. These fish, to be sure, are com- 
paratively small, running to about three pounds weight, but the more adventurous 
fisherman who goes outside of Fire Island Inlet, and does not fear the swells of old 
ocean, may catch monsters weighing from ten to fifteen pounds. These large fish are 
also taken with the rod, and the sport is occasionally varied by hooking a shark. In July 
the summer flight of Bay birds commences, and ^he gunner comes in for his share of 
sport. These birds are particularly abundant along the shores of Shinnecock Bay, fur- 
ther to the eastward. 

Perhaps not the least attractive feature of the South Side of Long Island is the life 
and activity which prevails. At the various stations, on the arrival of the trains, the 
display of handsome carriages and fine horses awaiting their owmers or visitors, cannot 
be excelled, and the friends who part at night are quite sure of meeting the next day at 



46 THE SOUTH SIDE OF LONG ISLAND. 

Fire Island or " Uncle Jesse's." For those who seek to enjoy the dolce far niente to the 
fullest extent, we can safely recommend this locality. There is a charm about its placid 
waters, the deep booming of the surf as it breaks upon the distant sandy beach, the fleets 
of boats, whose white sails seem like flocks of sea-birds, all of which must be seen and 
felt to be appreciated. Nor do its attractions cease with the summer months. As fall 
approaches, the oysterman commences to gather his harvest of the most luscious bivalves 
in the world. Great flocks of ducks and geese stop on their southern flight to fatten on 
the vast stores of their favorite food found on the numerous flats and bars. The broods 
of quails, now full-grown, pipe in the stubble-fields, and English snipe pause in their 
flight to feed on the meadows. Even the early spring has its attractions and temptations. 
The trout brooks of Long Island are famous the world over, and those emptying into the 
Great South Bay are noted for the gameness and quality of their fish. Numerous clubs 
are here established, some of which are among the wealthiest and most influential in the 
country, carefully preserving their many acres of land and water, and hatching and rear- 
ing their own trout. Go, then, the over-worked and weary, the victim of hay-fever or the 
ambitious sportsman ! Breathe the pure air which comes in health-laden breezes across 
the vast expanse of the Atlantic. Roll in the surf, or wander along the bright sandy 
beach or the shaded trout stream. You will find nowhere else such a combination as is 
offered by the " sea-girt shore " of Long Island. 



NOTES BY A SPORTSMAN 



FROM "FOREST AND STREAM.' 



^ HE quiet beauty of the scenery beyond Riverhead would delight the eye of an 
artist, but to the man who loves to tramp with ready gun and watchful dog 
when the fields are brown in the autumn and the leaves fall gently through 
the still warm haze of Indian summer, all the latter part of the ride is- 
attractive. He recalls the prairies as he glides across the level green plains of Hemp- 
stead, with its toy town of Garden City ; then great fields of buckwheat, white patches in 
the universal verdancy, remind him of how fond the quails are of buckwheat stubble, and 
he forms an unuttered hope that the reapers will not glean too closely. 

At Farmingdale begins a close heather of blackberry bushes, etc., and after a few- 
miles of this, the road penetrates the boundary of that sterile and scrub-oak region which 
covers the whole interior of the island, and is not escaped this side of Yaphank station. 
The surface here is as level as a floor, and the trees as a rule are so scattered that you 
may look for miles ahead, while there is no such shadow as exists in a forest. Some- 
times only a little thin grass covers the ground and is carpeted by pine needles. But 
where oaks grow, the ground is likely to be concealed under a continuous chapparral of 
tangled vines, briers, saplings, and weeds knee-deep, which makes grouse shooting (or 
partridge shooting, as it is termed here), fatiguing and somewhat dangerous sport, since 
the feet are not free to take the quick steps and sudden turns often demanded when a 
grouse is flushed. The range of pretty hills to the northward of the line of the road, 
known as the " Spina," used to be, and still is, a famous place for ruffed grouse. 

It was in this dry, open country, where the berries and small acorns which it loved so 
well were to be found in abundance, that a century ago the pinnated grouse resorted in 
plentiful flocks, rearing their young all over this central part of the Island. It was known 
to the pioneers as the "heath hen," and they pursued it so recklessly that as long ago as 
1840, Geraud could find no trace of its presence, and put it down in his "Birds of Long 
Island " as extinct. If introduced once more, and protected, no doubt the prairie 
chicken would thrive well and increase fast on their ancestral uplands. At Yaphank, the 
eye is attracted by a stream which the train shoots over, and which flows through a canyon 
of vegetation, as it were, the trees and bushes growing so directly from the water's edge 
that no bank can be seen at all. " Trout inhabit that stream " is the mental comment as 
we rush by. There is no doubt that they do, for we know that some of the best trout 
ponds on the south side are fed by its waters. For some miles now the region becomes 
thickly wooded and swampy, black isolated tarns gleaming among the trees, out of which 
perhaps a startled bittern will rise on heavy wings and flap away in silence. 



48 NOTES BY A SPORTSMAN. 

Riverhead passed, you come to the shores of Peconic Bay and the region for fall 
duck shooting. Spring duck shooting does not amount to much here, but in the fall and 
early winter prime sport may be had. In each of the little half-farming, half-fishing 
villages along the shore of the bay, there are some one or two gentlemen who shoot more 
or less, and who own creditable dogs ; but the metropolis of the gunning, as of all other 
interests in this region, is Greenport, the terminus of the Long Island Railroad. 

It was my good fortune there to make the acquaintance of several gentlemen fond ol 
the gun and skillful in its use, who kindly posted me as to the prospects for good gunning 
in their vicinity during the coming autumn, and the best localities to be chosen by one 
■wishing to make good bags in sportsman-like fashion. 

Mr. Burt Clark, who may be spoken of (without prejudice to his comrades) as proba- 
bly the most thorough sportsman in the place, says he has not known for many years 
woodcock so plenty as they were in this region last summer. ' Just before the 4th of July 
one man "dug up" six in a clump on Shelter Island, and Mr. Clark thought that even 
Tiow, if one was to search especially for them, he could find forty in a single day's 
tramping. 

There is no good fall woodcock shooting in Suffolk County, and if summer shooting 
"were abolished, the effect would be to stop the sport altogether ; still, a two weeks' later 
opening of the lawful season Avould probably be an improvement. Some parts of the 
south side of Peconic Bay afford good woodcock ground — the outskirts of East Hampton, 
for example — and Montauk Point is represented as the " boss " spot of all, as well as for 
all sorts of snipe and plover. Greenport's " stronghold " is quail shooting. Besides Mr. 
Burt Clark and his brother John, there may be mentioned several others who are good 
shots, among them Mr. Clark, Sr., father of the two gentlemen alluded to above, John 
Gechring, Captain Austin Bennett of the yacht "Arrow," W. W. Reeve, Ferdinand 
Heizeman, Elliott Wiggins, and H. W. Halsey. At Mattituck, Ed. Betts shoots for 
market, getting, it is said, two hundred quail last fall ; and at Baiting Hollow, Wm. 
Young has the reputation of being the best shot. 

The farmers are disposed to make no objections to persons lawfully shooting on their 
lands, if they are well behaved and careful not to do mischief to fences or wound any of 
the valuable live-stock, of which a large amount is owned in the county. 

Greenport sportsmen need not go far, but usually tramp eastward, the country' there 
teing more adapted to the birds and at the same time easier to shoot over. Strangers 
coming would do well to follow their example. In Oshmamomock — the neighboring 
township northwesterly — the outskirts of Dismal Swamp and Brown's Meadows are good 
localities ; also Queen Street, Silver Lake, Long Pond, Anderson's, Paul Brennan's, and 
Conklin's lands, and the neighborhood of the crossings. In East Marion, in the oppo- 
site direction, D. G. Floyd's land, Sexet Pond, East Marion Lake, Birch Pond, and 
Gardiner's Island. Montauk and outskirts of Sag Harbor also afford good shooting for 
quail, which are already piping loud and clear from the stone walls. For grouse shoot- 
ing, the sportsman must go to the southern peninsula, or else some dozen or eighty miles 
"west of Greenport. 

Just around here there are enough grouse to make good sport. Southeastward from 
Riverhead, however, they are said to be plenty. I mention, ''■en J>assa?it" Mr. Clark's 
"valuable outfit of apparatus for ducking and sniping — batteries, boats, decoys, stools of 
artistic make and endless quantity, and the various other accoutrements of an enthusias- 
tic sportsman. Having thus given the information likely to be of interest and value to 
sportsmen who are seeking a good place for game during the autumn, concerning the 



NOTES BY A SPORTSMAN. 49 

claims of the eastern end of Long Island to notice, only one thin;^ remains to be noticed 
— lodging facilities. This is a matter of too much importance to be ignored. The most 
ardent and strong-legged sportsman gets tired and hungry ; where he can beat overcome 
both these sad concomitants of a day's shooting is important for him to know. 

All these villages have good taverns. It is hard to choose between them. I should 
say: "Avoid the 'summer' hotels." The best place undoubtedly here in Greenport 
(which is likely to be the visiting sportsmen's headquarters) is the Wyandank Hotel. 
I speak from varied experience. Though Charlie Wright may not have time to carry the 
gun a great deal, both he and the amiable "INIrs. Charlie" know how to take care of 
those who shoot. 



THE NEAV CONEY ISLAND AND 
BRIGHTON BEACH. 




O account of Long Island would be satisfactory that failed to include Coney- 
Island and take note of the wonderful change that has taken place in its 
condition. The unsavory memory of the old Coney Island will not readily 
be forgotten, and was indeed of national repute ; and that in one short year 
such a place should have assumed the position of the foremost and most fashionable 
watering-place in America, makes it a spot of no little interest. The elements of success 
in such a watering-place are an ocean beach suitable for bathing, proximity to the 
metropolis, accessibility, and something good to eat. New York, after all, is the great, 
summer city, and any watering-place established near it, under the right conditions, 
could not fail of success. The great object of the majority of people who migrate annually 
from the West and South, is to reach New York in some way or other while on their journey. 
Given a fitting excuse in the shape of such a place as Brighton Beach, and because of its 
very proximity to New York, they will go to it in preference to any other place in the 
country. Of course this inures greatly to the benefit of New York ; it throws a great 
deal of money into circulation here, and it very naturally adds to its summer business. 
To the great bulk of the traveling public it presents the advantages of a temporary 
sojourn in New York, coupled with all the gayety and excitement of a place whose 
resources transcend anything that even Long Branch ever offered. 

It is by no means irrational that such should be the case, and there is, after all, little 
doubt that the people who seek New York in the summer season, get the best value for 
their money. In the first place they have their choice of hotels and hotel rates, and in 
paying for first class accommodations they are sure of getting them. At a leading 
watering-place they are sure of nothing but the rates, and can count confidently on 
inferiority and discomfort at exorbitant prices. Take the best hotel accommodations 
of any leading watering-place and compare them with what New York affords at the 
same price, and the force of this reasoning becomes at once apparent. 

Coney Island and New York are substantially one and the same place. The hotel 
accommodations that the Island offers are first-class as far as they go, but partake more 
of the character of high class restaurants like those of Delmonico, the Brunswick, or the 
Hoffman in the city, than of that of the great caravanseries of a summer resort. The 
summer visitor, therefore, establishes himself on the same footing with regard to Coney 
Island that a New Yorker does ; he puts up at a first-class hotel, or hires a suite of rooms 



NEW CONEY ISLAND. 



51 



in an apartment house or an establishment on the European phin, and spends his days 
and evenings on the beach, devoting such time as he chooses to business in New York, 
or to the countless summer amusements and the varieties of daily existence in the great 
metropolis. 

Coney Island, in this regard, is what New York has long wanted. It popularizes it 
in the summer time with the whole country, and it keeps New Yorkers at home. 

The energy that is devoted to public entertainment in the winter, finds ample oppor- 
tunity for continued manifestation in the summer, and if there be no longer in New York 
of a summer evening an audience for a Thomas or a Neuendorf! there is sure of being one 
on the esplanade at the Hotel Brighton. 

The feverish, restless condition of the great city in the hot summer months, and the 
periodical necessity for temporaiy relaxation, both find their recourse in Coney Island, 




_,ppppp|rT 







HOTEL BRIGHTON. 



and it very naturally assumes a relation to New York that is unique in a certain sense, 
and to which no ver}' obvious similarity is to be found in the condition of any other city. 
The class of amusements and entertainments that the public taste will gradually call for, 
can best be determined by a comparison with such places as the Crystal Palace at 
Sydenham, Kew Gardens, Richmond or the old Cremorne, and Vauxhall, and similar 
places about London. 

The Beach of a summer afternoon presents a very wonderful and impressive spectacle, 
and gives a better idea than is elsewhere to be obtained of the cosmopolitan quality of 
New York's population, as well as of its wealth and its general disposition. It brings 
very forcibly to mind all the comparisons that one may have heard instituted between 
New York and Paris. There were two places in the summer of 1878 that exhibited 
more or less identity of population — Brighton Beach and the Trocadero ; and during 
1879 the similarity will be heightened by the addition to the concourse at the new 
watering-place of the thousands who last year thronged every hotel and pension 
in Paris. 

It is a curious reflection that is suggested by the sight of a hundred thousand 
fashionably dressed people, disposed to different expedients of enjoyment or idle occu- 



52 



NEW CONEY ISLAND. 



pation on a spot which but a few months before was a seeming worthless patch of bare 
sand. It is very difficult for the stranger to realize that all these costly and enormous 
buildings, all this stupendous and varied equipage of entertainment, luxury and dissipa- 
tion, should have been a thing of such sudden growth. 

The chief gratification that is implied is of man's gregarious instinct, stronger 
possibly than many of his other traits of heredity, but none the less apparent in his 
methods of self-entertainment than in his outward show of religious practice. 

There is something especially grateful in the attrition of a multitude animated by a 
common purposelessness. A crowd is its own cause, and is considered philosophically 
by only one class of people — that which keeps hotels. At Coney Island a crowd can 
dine at its own sweet will, and prefers to do it as much as possible in the open air. The 
cost of the proceeding varies from a minimum of say twenty-five cents to twenty-five 
dollars or more. All classes are suited, and one can dine in any language and as 
extravagantly or as cheaply as one's habits, or rather one's purse, may dictate. One thing 
is very certain, and it is a great merit of the place and a great credit to the common 
sense of management that prevails, and that is that one can get as good a dinner at the 
island at a popular price as one can at any of the city restaurants in which so large a 
proportion of New York's population has studied the art of eating that it may live, and 
living that it may eat. 

Any one with any skill in ordering a dinner, a gift now not any longer confined to 
members of second rate city clubs or the Stock Exchange, can secure for himself and his 
party an admirable dinner at Brighton at current New York prices. By the exercise of 
a little discretion it can be procured to be very decently served ; for the waiters are of 
the best in a majority of cases. Like other people in lower walks of life, they too must 
run off somewhere for the summer, but prefer to do it without foregoing the profes- 
sional habit. 

Such a dinner, with the accompaniment of the crowd, the music, the infinite diversity 
of " contemporaneous human interest," its alfresco quality, and one's sense of being 
within a comfortable hour of one's own domestic economy, is a very tolerable factor in 
the sum of really intelligent existence. 

How thoroughly it is appreciated and understood is best to be told by the people who 
own the up-town dining-places in New York, and among whom the percentage of suicide 
is rapidly increased by it in summer. The clubs move down bodily to the Beach and 
indulge in sybaritic practices, and the " Ouida " of the future moons on the piazzas and 
absorbs the germs of literaiy lunacy. 



RAILROAD FACILITIES. 

Of course the question of access to New York is of vital interest to those who con- 
template a summer residence on Long Island, with a view to continuing to attend to 
business in the city. The facilities afforded will be greater in 1879 than ever before, 
and it is generally known that in 187S the railroad system was so reorganized that it 
became for the first time in the history of the Island of real effectiveness and conveni- 
ence. The condition of the road-bed and rolling stock of the Long Island Railroad has 
been gradually raised to its present standard ; new and powerful engines have been 
purchased, new cars of the first class have been added, and it is prepared not only to 



NEW CONEY ISLAND. 53 

meet any demands upon its resources that may be made, but to insure the greatest 
degree of comfort and safety. 

Phices on the South Side, the North Side, and the Main Line will be afiforded 
morning trains and fast expresses, whereby to reach the city at suitable hours. In the 
evening similar trains will be run eastward at intervals to suit the different conveniences 
of people returning. 

To Brighton Beach frequent first-class express trains, with Pullman Parlor cars, will' 
be run over a new double track of steel rails, and with every advantage, convenience, 
and security to the public that railroad experience and intelligent management 
can afford. 

Improved connections between Long Island City (Hunter's Point) and various places 
on the east side of the city, the elevated roads, and the lower part of New York, will 
be afforded. 

The Eastern end of the Island, including the Hamptons, Shelter Island, Greenport, 
Sag Harbor, and the region about the Peconics, will be reached daily by fast expresses, 
and on Saturdays and Sundays by specially scheduled trains designed for the conve- 
nience of people who cannot leave the city during the rest of the week. 

To Rockaway trains will be run as frequently as the public convenience can require, 
and over a newly laid and thoroughly ballasted steel-rail track. New cars have been 
purchased for this service and increased accommodations prepared in expectation of a 
large increase of the business in 1879 over any previous year in the history of this 
popular resort. 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 




HAT charming and popular writer and correspondent, Miss Jennie J. Young, 
and some others, have furnished such particulars of other j^oints of interest 
as are appended. They convey very pleasantly the general aspect of the 
places that most interest summer visitors, and a good deal of the sort of 
information that strangers to the island chiefly require. 



BELLPORT. 

It is long since the opinion was given to the world that there was nothing beyond 
Patchogue but a sandy barren desert, left unfinished by the Creator and abhorred of man. 
Like a good many other opinions, it gained credence because it was couched in terms 
that bore a faint flavor of humor. In point of truth, it is simply absurd. It must be 
admitted that at Patchogue, foi^r miles to the west of this place, the traveler by rail is not 




likely as he steps from the cars to find his thoughts turning toward Sharon or Eden, or 
the other representatives of classic fertility. He will more probably feel like a lesser 
Stanley on the border of a Sahara. There is a superabundance of sand. The train 
dumps its passengers into a sand-bank, and then, with a fiendish shriek of delight, crawls 
away from the platform to contemplate their misery. If faint-hearted, the visitor might 
at once busy himself finding out the times of departure of the westward cars, were he not 
interested in the disposal of his companions. They move about joyously, though some- 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



55 



times ankle-deep in sand. Stage after stage rolls away from the depot, and every one is 
full to overflowing. "There must be something beyond," thinks he, as the sand from 
die horses' feet falls upon him in a shower, " ^ome oasis in the desert, some lovely place 
that derives its beauty from its contrast with the barrenness surrounding it." With this 
reflection, the explorer takes his place in one of the few remaining vehicles, and is soon 
whirling along the road to East Patchogue and Bellport. Discouragement evaporates, 
and the spirits rise at every turn. 

No mirage was ever more deceitful than was Patchogue Station to what lies beyond. 
After the first mile, fate is accepted without a murmur ; after the second, there comes 
enchanting peeps at pretty inland waters, and through lines of trees at a rolling, culti- 
vated country on either side ; after the third, sand-hills are forgotten, and dismal fore- 
bodings have vanished, leaving no trace behind. At Bellport, one thinks of Wordsworth's 
"Earth has something yet to show." The village proper is about half a mile from the 







,_ INT-He KiTKitR. W00I> J^awT*,vl<l : 



beach, where the more agreeable places of residence are to be found. From this place, 
at the head of Bellport Bay, the swash of the water rippling upon the shore about eight}^ 
yards distant can be heard all day long. A group of children are busy digging wells in 
the sand, and a few bathers are disporting themselves in the brine. The view from the 
upper windows toward the south and east is very beautiful. The Great South Bay is here 
about four miles wide, and the Great South Beach forms the line on the southern horizon. 
To the east the shore stretches southward, and a broad promontory divides the Great 
South from the East Bay. This promontory is one of the most richly-timbered districts 
on the island, and is held by five or six proprietors, amongst whom its io,ooo acres are 
divided. From my present point of view, the shore seems to be broken up into small 
coves, and the land is covered with woods. To the southwest stretch the w-aters of the 
Bay, dotted with cat-boats and yachts, and round a headland on the west lies Patchogue. 
In even,^ direction the prospect is picturesque and pleasing, and the means of enjoyment 
are abundant. Bellport, though not very generally known, is liberally patronized by 



56 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



visitors from all parts of the United States and Canada. The story of its first settlement 
is interesting, as conveying a hint of the beauty of its location. 

About sixty-five years ago, a Mr. Thomas Bell, then in the employ of the American 
Coast Wrecking Company, was sent to the wreck of a vessel called the Irene. In the 
fulfilment of his mission, he was first led to the site of the present village. Afterwards, 
when in quest of place for permanent residence, he came east from Islip, and returning 




to the point which had first attracted him, he came here, and called the place after him- 
self, Bellport. How much there is to justify his choice, I have already shown. Since 
then, the place has grown slowly but steadily, and will probably come to the front in point 
of importance, when the railway is finished through from Patchogue to Moriches, on the 
Sag Harbor branch of the main line. The summer visitors appear to represent every 
grade, with the exception of the ultra-fashionable. Every one is at ease with his neigh- 
bor, and all are apparently at ease with the world. This implies a generally comfortable 
view of affairs at large, and such an absence of exclusiveness as permits of 'a moderately 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



57 



restricted intercourse. The society is therefore the best possible to get along with, and 
has no leaning towards fashionable rusticity. The word "general" implies exceptions 
and such may of course be found at Bellport. There are women who cannot, by any 
effort, resign their places in belledom and take to rural simplicity. There are men who 

carry " the world " with them into the temple. The latter at the sea-side are a study 

for the sake of amusement, if not of profit. He loves himself with a love surpassing the 
love of woman, and walks the piazzas the conscious cynosure of all eyes. As the fresh 
morning breeze pipes sweet music to the wavelets of the bay, he hies him on board a 
skiff and sails to the outer beach, where, clad in snowy white, with patent leather and 
cloth extensions, he listens to the majestic roar of the ocean. There he alone feels the 
greatness of man, and a proper contempt for washing and shoemakers' bills. Or, per- 
haps, his thoughts are turned toward death— the death of the tilt-ups and meadow-larks. 
In that case, he robes himself in the habiliments of Nimrod — brown velveteen coat and 
becoming inexpressibles. He shoulders his gun and adjusts his cartridge-belt, and 
marches off to the boat in which he means to sail for the bloodless field. Speaking from 
the birds' point of view, 

" Woe is written on his visage. 
Death is looking from his face." 

He returns, and a glance shows that the soaring sea-gull has fallen before the flash of his 
unerring weapon — dropped on the ocean waves in quest of fish — and that the fluttering 
bobolink has been left to die in its tracks. In other words, his bag is empty, his manly 
fingers are unsoiled, and his dress has all its pristine freshness. At supper, he eats with 
modesty, and handles his knife and fork with a grace begotten of long and loving famil- 
iarity. The velveteen has been replaced by appropriate black, and his broad shoulders 
look broader still under liberal tailors' epaulets. 

A few years ago, there were people to be seen who found a little money so great a 
novelty that they could not even for a brief season retire from the new way of life which 
it had opened to them. The greater and better part of them are beginning to feel the 
irksomeness of social harness, and are glad of a respite in summer. The minority carry 
with them the lares and />e/iafes of their city homes, and have nothing else to which to pay 
their devotions. At Bellport, these are as much out of place as a whale at Montauk. 

For sailing and fishing parties, the entire expanse of the Great South Bay is open 
from Moriches to Fire Island. 

There are, I fancy, a few who have no wish to give publicity to its many charms. 
These are the monopolists, who are fond of exclusive seclusion, and abhor the invasion 
of a horde of pleasure-seekers as farmers abhor the advance of the Colorado beetle. 
They long to get away from the " steamship and railway, and the thoughts that shake 
mankind," from the phonograph, the telephone, the telegraph, and magnify all the advan- 
tages of Bellport because it is beyond the railway system. But that a place with the most 
perfect water facilities on Long Island should be left comparatively unknown is a crime 
too monstrous to be tolerated. 



58 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



BABYLON AND GREAT SOUTH BAY. 

There is no more delightful, salubrious, or generally attractive spot within a hundred 
miles of New York than Babylon, and the region that lies all about it on the south side 
of Long Island. It is strange that there should be at a distance of but forty miles from 
the great metropolis a place so thoroughly untamed and unspoiled and so fresh and 
charming in its pristine attractiveness. It has all the advantages of forest upland and 
open meadow, combined with the fresh salt air and cooling breezes of the seacoast. 

One is never out of hearing of the surges on Fire Island, or of the thundering surf 
that rolls in upon Great South Beach. For the purjoose of the sportsman, it is at all 
seasons unrivalled, and the variety of game to be found upon its shores and in its waters 
is simply astonishing. 

The numerous streams that empty into Great South Bay, and the ponds that they run 
through, have made Long Island famous for its trout, and their numbers, size, and 
beauty. 




The richness of their food, and the fact that they have constant access to salt water, 
have contributed greatly to their fine quality. Other fresh-water fish there are in abun- 
dance, but the waters of the Bay itself teem with every salt-water variety. 

There is no such place on the Atlantic coast for blue-fishing as Fire Island Inlet, and 
no safer boats to fish from or sail in than the commodious and well-known cat-boats. 

Every visitor that may come is sure of good fishing ; the facilities for it are unlimited, 
and the fish themselves inexhaustible. 

The shooting is excellent. In the season. Great South Bay abounds in geese, brant, 
canvas-back, broad-bills, red-heads, black-heads, mallards, and other ducks. 

Along the Beach there are snipe, tern, and curlew ; and inland, quail, partridge, and 
grouse. There are also deer, of which there promises at no distant day to be abundant 
shooting, in consequence of recent and wise legislation looking to their protection. The 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



59 



bathing and boating during the season cannot anywhere l^e surpassed. For those who 
like the surf, there is Fire Island beach, with its smooth expanse of yellow sand ; and for 
those who prefer still water, there is the unruffled tide of the Great South Bay. 

In the summer time, the wind varies from south to southeast, blowing in steadily from 
the ocean, and insuring even in seasons of the greatest heat a delightful temperature both 
day and night. 

The new management and reorganized system of the Long Island Railroad and leased 
lines enables one to reach Babylon by the regular trains in one hour. 



RONKONKOMA. 

As the cars draw up to the depot at Lakeland, the tourist, who has most probably 
enjoyed his two hours' ride from New York, looks eagerly from his window for the first 
glimpse of the lake. He looks in all likelihood with some anxiety, as upon that glimpse 
he naturally thinks the success of his excursion depends. He is inclined to trust to first 
impressions, and feels that the sum total of his pleasure or disappointment is at stake. 
He withdraws his head in dissatisfaction. It is not, however, that his anticipations of 
the lake are not realized, but simply that he has not seen it. All that has met his 
anxious view are a rather prosaic looking depot, a country store, a hotel and its perti- 
nents, and a few of the countrymen who appear to be in want at every stopping-place. 

The latter our traveler thinks he has seen before. Surely he saw them at Central 
Islip, Brentwood, at Deer Park and Farmingdale, and are they not the same he met last 
year at Stony Brook, and the year before at Blue Point ? He mistakes their typical 
character for ubiquity, but hails them as the living assurances that he has indeed made 
his escape from the city, and is once more in the country. 

There is, firstly, the stout, elderly man with the knotty stick, who runs in a modest 
^ay the hotel near by. There is the tall, sandy-whiskered countryman, with a liberal 
thatch of straw, embroidered and lank, the most ardent disciple of Do-nothingism in the 
township. There is the raw lad, of immature proportions, who is in charge of a span of 
sorrels and a rusty wagon '• after the antique. " There are, besides, one or two gentle- 
men from the city, who lounge about, in evident enjoyment of their freedom, and who 
have just been long enough in the country to regard the arrival of a train as something 
of an event. 

Our traveler regards them all as old friends, and then turns northwards to the woods. 
To his eye they are full of unknown possibilities, for nestling somewhere in their balmy 
embrace is the lake of w^hich he is in quest. A short and beautiful drive of about a mile 
brings him to a point at which, gleaming through the trees, the sheen of Ronkonkoma 
meets his eager eye. The lake, which still retains its Indian name — meaning, most un- 
poetically, Sand Pond — is about forty-eight miles from New York, and lies in the midst 
of a countiy of surpassing beauty. Looking at it from any point of view, the question 
most likely to occur is the old one, " What's in a name ? " There is little to suggest 
Sand Pond as a distinctive name but a small sandy tract at the lower or southern end, 
and a narrow belt dividing the lake at the north from a charming little pond dotted with 
water-lilies. On the east and west the water is alternately pebbles and sand, and above 
are high banks, covered with shady trees. 

The lake is small, not being more than a mile in diameter, but its situation and sur- 



6o 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



roundings make it a veritable diamond among lakes. If we return to the point at which. 
it first bursts upon the traveler from the south, and follow the road nordiward along the 
eastern side, a succession of lovely views will be our reward. The road rises and falls 
with the undulations of the country, and at no point passes out of view of the lake. A 
few houses and a church on our right show that although to the traveling world at large 
Ronkonkoma is a name unknown, there are some who have sought out and appreciated 
its unobtrusive beauty. There is one bluff, about midway between its two extremities, 

from which the sun may at times be seen 
setting in a splendor almost unequalled. 



The sky above is bright and clear, and 
as the horizon is neared, there appears 
tints of yellow, bright brass, shining gold, 
copper, and dark gray flecked with crim- 
son, until at last the horizon appears tO' 
mingle with the earth. The effect upon 
the lake is superb, almost unearthly. 

The woods and their shadow in the 
lake compose a broad, heavy border, 
which becomes partly luminous toward 
its outer edge, where again the crimson 
flecks of the clouds are reproduced with 
preternatural fidelity. Nearer come the 
copper and golden tints, and nearer still 
the beams of the sun gild the reflected 
sky of deepened blue. 

At such a time the lake mirrors the 
beauty of the sky ; at others, its fascina- 
tions are more perfectly its own. The 
view just described is at midday no less 
attractive. The surface of the water is 
generally fanned by a light breeze, and 
the gleam of a white sail here and there 
enlivens and gives variety to the scene. 
The fringe of trees produces a sense of 
seclusion to the jaded citizen of Gotham, 
and forms a beautiful setting to the 
cr}^stal lake. 
Passing round by the north and down the western side, there is not a point at which 
some new beauty does not disclose itself. 

And now as to the salubrity and character of the vicinity. When it is said that the 
lake is over fifty feet above the sea, and that it lies, as we have seen, deep set in the 
landscape, it will be inferred that the air cannot be other than fresh and invigorating. 
A very brief residence confirms this deduction. Not only is the neighborhood healthy, 
in the sense of being free from any kind of sickness, malarial or otherwise, but it is a 
place in which faded energy is speedily revived. 

The bathing is excellent, the gradually shelving pebbly beach making it both pleasant 
and safe. The fishing is abundant, the varieties of fish being numerous, and the supply 
inexhaustible. The adjacent country abounds in game, and the lake is a favorite resort 




SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 6i 

of water-fowl of all kinds. There are both row and sail boats, and accidents have been 
so extremely rare, that it may be said they would never happen if the most ordinan' skill 
or care were displayed. There is not a dull or uninteresting road in the neighborhood 
and dri\ ing is therefore never wearisome. 

The country on all sides is of a pleasant undulating character ; and hidden awav from 
the glance of a chance visitor without a taste for exploration are numberless nooks that 
are all but perfect in their rural beauty. \\\\\\ this enumeration of the natural advan- 
tages of Ronkonkoma and the district surrounding it, our attention may now be allowed 
to rest for a space upon the permanent residents of the place. As to the Aboriginal 
population, it may be premised that no remnant exists. The last of the Indians was 
Jim Cuturus — may bis shade look down forgivingly if his earthly patronymic be mis- 
spelt. Jim was known as a rather high-handed gentleman, and his society was not 
sought with much assiduity. Between thirty and forty years ago he fell ignominiously 
in conflict with a negro at Stony Brook, who resented his intrusion. The only local 
mementoes of the noble Red, are arrow-heads made of white quartzose stone of great 
hardness. They have been found in great numbers to the east of the lake. 

In many places on Long Island a marked conservatism is noticeable in regard to 
locality. The true Long Islander does not care to wander from the spot where his 
forefathers settled, and it often happens that houses and farms have been handed down 
for several generations from father to son. Names are thus perpetuated and become 
associated in the history of the districts in which they occur. One house is pointed out 
here that was built a century and a half ago, and is now occupied by a descendant of 
its first owner. Branches of the same family occur in several places in the district, 
and through it and its off-shoots ever}'body appears to be related to ever)'body else. It 
must not, therefore, be supposed that I am writing of a country newly opened up. 
It has been settled for nigh two hundred years, and considering the beauty of the 
place, it seems absurd that, in this year of grace, ninety-nine out of every hundred New 
Yorkers, if asked about Lake Ronkonkoma, would say they never heard of it. 



SOUTHAMPTON. 

Southampton is verily a patriarch among the villages of Long Island, for it was here, 
238 years ago, that a few adventurous emigrants from Massachusetts founded the first 
English settlement in the State of New York. They came on a day in June, when the 
prospect, if a little wilder, was probably as fair as it is to-day. Expelled from Manhasset 
by the Dutch, and having sailed around Orient Point and up Peconic Bay until they 
arrived at a point now called North Sea, they marched south through the woods until they 
reached a suitable place for a settlement. Probably it appeared to them after their wan- 
derings, and in spite of their knowledge of Indian neighbors on either hand, " fair as the 
garden of the Lord." In any case here, or rather about three-quarters of a mile from 
the present village, they determined to settle. It may seem strange, but no sweeping 
•change has since then passed over the place. Still, 

" Science herself here seems to sleep. 
Wrapped in a slumber long and deep." 

A few relics of the olden time yet remain, and others were only recently removed. 



62 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



The main street is a wide grass-grown highway, laid out under the evident conviction 
that land was plenty and jostling undesirable. 

Where Captain Green's house now stands, there was very recently one dated 164S, 
eight years after the date of settlement. The old Pelletreau house, though decrepit and 
craz)'-, yet rears its weather-beaten front to the sun and wind. It now belongs to 
Mr. J. Foster, who lives in the adjoining house and has many interesting associations 
clinging to its walls. 

It was there that, in the Revolutionary War, General Erskine had his headquarters, 




Aa(^ 



N EAR. SMITHTO vW. 



and the mark of an ax in the floor of one of the rooms has led to the belief 
that on that spot the quartermaster cut up the beeves and sheep to be served 
out to the troops. 

Some of the best families are those which took deepest root in the soil, and their 
names are found on the roll of patriots who answered the President's call in 186 1. 

Here, therefore, one is not only in the best of company but in a place where decay has 
touched only lightly, and where there is a past more or less stormy, with an historical back- 
ground of adventure. Indians armed husbandmen, and revolution has given place to a 
placid and restful present. 

Passing down the main street one comes in sight of a long pond on which are a few 
sailing-boats, and at its southern extremity is a high ridge of sand dividing it from the 
ocean. At this point is the bathing station. The townsmen are so sensible of the 
advantage of haviiig it well guarded and safe, that they recently formed a Beach Asso- 
ciation for the purpose of devising means of affording to visitors adequate protection 
against accident. The result has been very satisfactory. A bathing master has been 
engaged to attend between certain hours every day, and there are all the usual safeguards 
of ropes and life-preservers. 

The Beach stretches for miles to east and west, and the view from the sand-hills is 
magnificent, embracing a wide expanse of picturesque country on the north, and on the 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 63 

south the ocean, with ships passing under a cloud of sail, and now and again an ocean 
steamer with a long thin line of smoke behind it. 

Returning to the village, the secret of its cool temperature and invigorating air is 
revealed. There is nothing to check the wind from the ocean, and the houses, which 
occasionally have a bare appearance suggestive of heat, are cool and pleasant. 



ROCKAV/AY. 

Forty years ago Far Rockaway, " on Long Island's seagirt shore," was the most 
famous and fashionable watering-place in this part of the country, Saratoga alone 
excepted. The renowned Marine Pavilion (consumed by fire many years ago), which 
stood just west of the little village, was a wonderful hotel ; but in these days of mam- 
moth structures it would be considered about third rate. Its broad piazza more than 
200 feet long, fronting the ocean, was trodden by Presidents and Governors and Mayors 
and foreign princes and all the beauty and fashion of the days of Jackson, Van Buren, 
and T\ler. 

Long Branch was known only in name, and Coney Island was only a desolate barren, 
inhabited chiefly by a well-known character and hon vivant Gil Davis, who spent his days 
in getting up enormous clam bakes at or near Sheep's-Head Bay. 

After the burning of the Pavilion, Far Rockaway — to which access was had almost 
entirely by stages from Jamaica or Hempstead — ceased to be a watering-place, and fell 
back into the sleepy character of most Long Island villages. As for Rockaway Beach, 
no one ever thouglit of going there unless to shoot birds or gather crabs. It was only a 
line of sand dunes, looking across Jamaica Bay like a miniature of the Apennines. This 
Beach, constantly changing in surface by the action of the wind, is nearly five miles long, 
running west from Far Rockaway, and from an eighth to half a mile v.^ide. The ocean 
front is almost a straight line, while the northern front, on Jamaica Bay, is as crooked 
as any ram's-horn that sounded at Jericho — not Jericho on Long Island, but the elder of 
that name. Of course the Beach was property worth perhaps five cents an acre. At 
least it was commonly so regarded. 

But about twenty-five years ago a certain James Remsen got it into his head that 
money could be made out of this apparently worthless sand. Keeping his own counsel,, 
he quietly bought up nearly all the Beach west of Far Rockaway. 

It is said for a trifle over $500 he secured four miles of sand heaps, probably a 
thousand acres. 

Remsen's friends at once pronounced him a hopeless lunatic, and intimated that he 
should have a guardian, for such a donkey was unfit to manage his own affairs. 

The Jamaica man, however, kept on and soon built the Sea Side House, at what 
is now the second steamboat landing, the first house erected on the Beach. 

Patrons came slowly and with evident doubts, but they came ; and not long after the 
house was opened a little pocket steamboat was running from Canarsie to the house, a 
luxury for which Remsen in one year paid $1800. 

So much for the beginning of what has rapidly become one of the most popular and 
important of our seaside resorts. 

Now Rockaway Beach has a future at hand that promises to be even more brilliant 
than that which Coney Island realized so quickly. So far, it has, in even a more marked 



64 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 



degree, the natural qualifications for a great success. Its beach is infinitely finer in 
every way, and it is nearer to New York in point of time than Coney Island, Far Rock- 
away being accessible from Hunter's Point -in tliirty five minutes. Of course, it is 
impossible that such a beach should not be availed of for summer purposes, and already 
the attention of capitalists has been turned thithur. It is merely a question of a short 




time before Rockaway Beach undergoes a process of evolution like that which has taken 
place on Coney Island, and when it shall assume a place among the most celebrated 
watering-places of the Atlantic coast. 

As it is, now one may see from ten to twenty thousand people there of a hot summer's 
day, and it is doubtful if anywhere else there is so much enjoyment to be found by the 
general public. The character of the place is strictly unconventional, but its freedom 
and unrestraint are not abused. One of the most amusing sights is the bathing, which 
is prosecuted with a vigor and persistency that are simply amazing. Next to it come the 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 65 

lUiterminable picnics, which are of every imaginable variety, and include all classes of 
people — those who bring enormous baskets of supplies from home, and those who get 
their provisions on the spot. Of course the Long Island clam is an indispensable and 
all-pervading feature, and the eating of it in some form is a ceremony that no one would 
willingly forego. 



GARDEN CITY. 

It was a prett}' good evidence of the value of Long Island land that so shrewd, 
intelligent and careful a man as the late Mr. A. T. Stewart should have chosen to 
invest in it so largely. A better evidence is afforded by the appearance of the land 
itself since it has been proved to be amenable to husbandry, and no one can visit 
Garden City and its vicinity without being convinced of the fact. 

Garden City, enuring, as its originator designed it should, to the benefit and comfort 
of a great many people, was a curious experiment, but it has amply justified the purposes 
for which it was undertaken. Few communities anywhere possess like advantages or 
exist under conditions so congenial and so conducive to general welfare. 

It is a city founded upon the most approved principles of sanitar}' science, and to all 
who take an interest in such matters it is one of the most noteworthy and instructive 
examples in existence. A waiter in Dr. Bell's valuable journal, the Sanitana?i, speaks of 
the location of Garden City as follows : 

Dr. B. W. Richardson, of London, not long ago set forth the admirable advantages 
which would accrue to a city founded on strictly sanitaiy principles — a city which should 
comprehend in full all the benefits which pertain to the best chosen situation with regard to 
climate, soil, drainage, water supply, house construction, food supplies, disposal of refuse, 
public buildings, churches, schools, hospitals, places of amusement, factories, fire-stations — 
all the appurtenances and avoidances necessary to the promotion and maintenance of the 
highest standard of human health. But the great merchant prince of New York, 
A. T. Stewart, even before the appearance of Dr. Richardson's paper, had the sagacity 
to found a city — a " Garden City "—on a tract of land which had remained utterly 
neglected from the first settlement of this country by Europeans, on account of a singular 
belief or fatuity that it was barren or unfit for culture. Yet, strange to say, this tract of 
land, on which Garden City is situated, possesses all the natural advantages suited to 
Dr. Richardson's ideal "City of Health ;" and, with the required sanitary skill in the 
construction of this new city, Long Island will ere long exult in possessing the veritable 
City of Health, so graphically though fancifully depicted by Dr. Richardson, 

The great Hempstead Plains, which Mr. Stewart "took, held and possessed," is a 
remarkable tract of countr}-. An old historian, who described it more than two hundred 
years ago, says :—" Toward the middle of the Island lyeth a plain, sixteen miles long 
and four miles broad, upon which plain groweth very fine grass that makes exceeding 
good hay, and is very good pasture for sheep and other cattel." 

There were about sixty thousand acres in this wonderful piece of land ; it was, in 
fact, a prairie — a great and beautiful upland meadow producing " very fine grass that 
makes exceeding good hay." I will try in a few words to describe the situation, 
surface, soil and geological structure of this celebrated spot. The westerly part of the 
" Plains " is about fifteen miles from Brooklyn, and can be seen from the spires and 



66 SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 

" high house-tops " of Bedford. Starting from the South Ferr)', where the rails of the old 
L. I. R. R. were seven feet above tide-water ; and at Bedford, two and a half miles, 
73 feet ; at the watering place formerly called Howard's Woods, on the high ground this 
side of East New York, 83 feet ; thence descending to Jamaica Depot, where the rails 
are 40 feet above tide-water ; thence easterly, the grade is uphill all the way to Hicks- 
ville, twenty-five miles from Brooklyn, or South Ferry, where it is 150 feet above tide- 
water. This is the summit level of the L. I. R. R., and is near the northeasterly border 
of Hempstead Plains, which extends north of Hicksville to the southerly edge of the 
Hills of Jericho. At Hempstead Branch, or Mineola, about a mile north of Garden^ 
City Hotel, the rails are 103 feet above tide-water. These distances or heights are 
given to show the situation or position of this great tract. It is an elevated table-land 
with a southern aspect, with a descent of about twenty feet to the mile. It is bounded 
on the north by the high grounds or ridge of hills running through the island from west 
to east ; with this regular and gentle descent to the southern shore of the island, the 
under drainage is most complete and perfect. Then the surface of the " Plains," from 
west to east, is gently undulating, in long swells, elevations and depressions looking 
southwardly, have exactly the appearance of the dried bed of streams ; and following 
them down towards the south borders of the Plains, streams of purest water are found in 
many of them. 

These rollings or undulations of the land present, in fact, three drainage surfaces on 
each of them, one southerly of about twenty feet to the mile, and one on each side gently 
sloping to the west and to the east from the centre of these elevated sections, thereby 
presenting a most wonderful natural drainage. The surface soil is a dark loam from 
fifteen inches to two feet in depth. It looks just what a lady would select to fill her 
flower-pots with, and is highly productive, and which grew and grows the " very fine 
grass that made exceeding good hay," according to the old chronicle ; and what is 
remarkable, this grass never runs out — it is always fresh and green. And it may here be 
remarked that the natural grasses of Hempstead Plains are the most nutritious grasses 
that can be found in the Northern States. 

The turf upon this upper and dark soil is so thick and strong as to require a team of 
three horses with a strong plow to turn a furrow through it. Under this layer of dark 
loam is a layer of yellow loam, of about equal thickness, in many places a clay loam or 
clay; and under these, generally at a depth of about two feet and a half or three feet, is 
the firm, compact gravel and sand that everywhere form the main body of Long Island, 
for it is literally a " child of the ocean." 

These undersands and gravels are firm and compact (there are no quicksands), and 
intermingled with fine silicious sands, comminuted, almost levigated, forming the most 
complete and perfect filter that can possibly be made ; and the water found under this 
whole region, and flowing out of it, is of the purest and sweetest kind, and never fails. 
It has been claimed recently that a great subterranean river flows under Hempstead 
Plains, or such is the inference from the inexhaustible flow that is found from 20 to 30 
feet under the surface. 

The climate is the finest in the State of New York, most healthful and pleasant. 
There are no stagnant waters nor malarious land within miles of this highly-favored and 
most interesting region. 

There is no place like it for the foundation of a City of Health — the great work has 
been done by nature. There are not men and horses enough in this, the great Empire 
State, to form such a foundation for a City of Health ; and if Mrs. Stewart will improve 



SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 67 

these great natural advantages and found the first City of Health in America, she will 
become a benefactress to her race, and gain immortal honor. 

The most striking sanitary features of the place, adds another correspondent, are : 
an inexhaustible supply of the purest water, the perfect conditions for subsoil and 
surface drainage, and, consequently, total absence of malaria, and of the causes which 
produce it. With these conditions, and a climate tempered by the contiguous ocean 
shore, the " Old Hempstead Plains," under intelligent cultivation, are rapidly assuming 
features of utility and beauty, and must, eventually, become immensely important as 
suburbs of Brooklyn and New York. 

The water supply of the region is wholly from rainfall, the average of which is about 
43 inches a year. It has been estimated that three-fourths of this sinks into the porous 
soil. The surface waste is certainly small, and occurs in winter when the ground 
is frozen. 

The subsoil which holds the water is clean silicious gravel and sand, and free from 
aluminous and calcareous matters. In the progress of the work in founding this new 
city, there is not a single instance where decayed or decaying organic substances have 
been found in the soil. The soil deposit is in layers, the beds having a dip southward 
or towards the ocean, the total depth being at least seventy feet. It is probably much 
more in places. Six miles southward the depth was found to be sixty-eight feet, with a 
deposit of compact blue clay underneath. At Garden City a dense crust or " hard pan " 
was found, by boring through the gravels, at seventy feet below the surface. 

The beds of sand we are considering are evidently formed of the boulder di ift of 
which the Island is composed, disintegrated and ground to sand and gravel by waves of 
the ocean during a period of coast subsidence. These sands now constitute a vast 
reser\'oir of water from rainfall, more perfect than any which human ingenuity has 
contrived. Wells sunk into the saturated sands are inexhaustible. The one at Garden 
City is fifty feet in diameter ; the surface of the water in it is twenty-five feet below the 
general level of the " plains " at the place where it is located — in a valley fourteen feet 
below the general surface — so that the depth of the well or reservoir to the surface of the 
water, is only eleven feet. The depth of the w^ater is twenty feet, and it rises from the 
bottom ; none gets in through the sides of the reservoir. Water is conveyed to all the 
houses of Garden City by the Holly System, the pump being adequate to discharge 
3,000,000 gallons a day. 

The enormous volume of the water supply will be appreciated, from the fact that in 
constructing the reservoir two wrecking pumps, discharging through pipes ten inches in 
diameter, were worked continuously day and night for a whole week, in order to lower 
the water sufficiently to proceed with the work. 

As stated, the level of saturation in the soil at Garden City is about twent)^-five feet 
below the surface. The elevation of the surface is about 103 feet above tide, or nearly 
the same as that given by the Long Island Railroad Survey for Mineola. According to 
the observations of W. R. Hinsdale, Esq., the thoroughly competent manager of the 
Garden City site, the surface of saturation in the soil has a slope southward or towards 
the ocean of eight feet to the mile. This is less than that given in the original surveys 
for the Brooklyn waterworks, by about one-third. But the result stated in the survey, 
12-14 feet to the mile, was from an average of many observations, over a very wide area. 
The slope of the surface is not uniform, but undulating between twelve and twenty feet. 

At various points southward of the " plains " the water breaks out, forming streams 



68 SOME DETAILS ABOUT OTHER PLACES. 

into the valleys. In a distance of fifty miles along the south shore of the Island there 
are no less than sixty of these spring streams flowing into the bay, and some of them are 
utilized in the water supply of Brooklyn. 

From the fact that the level of saturation at Garden City and over the entire "plain" 
district of Long Island is many feet above tide-water, there occurs a ceaseless movement 
of the water in the soil — slow indeed, but persistent — which will flow on so long as clouds 
drop in rain upon the region. And thus it happens that the entire volume is constantly 
in motion, never stagnant. The quantity which falls upon the ground is immense. 
Porty-three inches of rainfall is more than 3^ cubic feet upon a square foot of surface. 
For convenience of calculation, let us assume that three feet penetrates the soil. This 
would give more than 83,000,000 of cubic feet upon a square mile, or two and a half 
millions of tons. A freight car will carry ten tons. Two hundred and fifty thousand 
cars, therefore, would be required to convey the rainfall upon one square mile in a }-tar. 
It is easy to see that the volume in the subsoil reservoir is immense, while the waste by 
streams is enormous — but the supply is adequate. 

The level of saturation in the soil varies but little in a year. It is certain, therefore, 
that the entire volume of water, excepting that which is lifted by evaporation or absorbed 
by vegetation, is steadily and incessantly moving towards the ocean. 

The houses of the estate are of the most substantial and comfortable construction, 
and as a matter of course nothing has been left undone in such matters as ventilation, 
sewerage, water and gas. Rents are moderate and the social conditions that prevail are 
of the most desirable character. 

The hotel at Garden City is somewhat of a surprise to strangers, who in small country 
communities do not expect to find an establishment conducted upon the principles of the 
first houses in the metropolis. Yet such is the case, and the hotel at Garden City is 
maintained upon a strictly first-class basis. 

Garden City, as a place of summer residence, possesses exceptional advantages in its 
proximity to both the city and the various seaside watering-places. Rockaway Beach 
and Brighton Beach, Fire Island and Babylon, can be reached at all hours of the day 
with convenience and comfort, and parties take advantage of the facilities offered and 
spend their mornings or afternoons in seeking the various diversions of all these resorts. 
Mr. W. R. Hinsdale is in charge of the estate, and can be addressed at Garden City. 



FLOTSAM AND JETSAM. 




EIRD winter-night tales of shipwreck and disasters at sea are told all along the 
southern coast of the Island. There are graveyards that contain only the 
remains of those that have perished in the great winter storms, and all along 
the coast are strewn the "bones" of brave ships that have gone to i)ieces on 
Long Island sands. In the winter they furnish fearful sights and episodes of chilling 
horror, but in the summer children play about them merrily and artists make them into 
pleasant pictures. Houses are built of wreckage, fences are made of stout ribs and knees 
of merchantmen ; and the fragments of gay woodwork conduce to warm many a well-filled 
pot and melt the heart of many a devoted clam. 

The story of the fate of the jfohn Milkvi is told at Montauk, and many a piece of 
that unhappy ship is yet picked up on the beach near Stratton's. Further to the west, 
Great South Beach is full of thrilling memories, and the spot is pointed out where 
Margaret Fuller Ossoli perished with her husband. At Sammis's Surf House at Fire 
Island one day a great ocean steamer, the Idaho, landed all her passengers — uninten- 
tionally, but safely — and then finding out her mistake, went on to New York and arrived 
there as soon as they did by the railroad. Last year she made another mistake of the 
same kind on the other side, and went permanently out of commission at the bottom of 
St. George's Channel. 

Of the wreck of the Circassian, Mr. Ernest IngersoU tells the following story in 
Harper's Monthly : 

It was just opposite Bridgehampton that the Circassian was wrecked in the winter of 
1874-75, by which half the remnants of Shinnecock Indians lost their lives. The captain 
is said to have had a presentiment when he went aboard of the vessel that he would 
never leave her alive, and of course he didn't. How the mate and three seamen were 
saved is worth telling. The mate was a very resolute, cool-headed man, and made up his 
mind to the inevitable some time before the catastrophe»came. With three of his men 
he got a buoy aloft where they were clinging to the rigging almost frozen, and there 
remained until the last thump upon the bottom should be given, and the ship fall over on 
her beam-ends a total wreck. 

All the time they were conning over their plan of action. At last the ship gave a 
final lurch, struck with crushing force on the sand, and the tall mast leaned swiftly to the 
water like a felled tree. This was their moment, and the four men, clinging to the buoy 
as best they could, were hurled into the raging surf. One man, though, lost his hold, 
and with a drowning clutch seized the mate around the neck. The mate had his knife 



70 FLOTSAM AND JETSAM. 

in his belt, and instantly drawing it shouted : " Let go or I'll kill you ! " The sailor 
knew he would keep his word and did let go, to successfully grasp the buoy. Thus 
hanging on, with their hands now recovering limberness in the warmer water, and locking 
their feet together underneath the buoy to ballast it, they began their perilous drifting 
shoreward. 

All the while the mate kept his perfect self-possession and his eyes open. " Shut ! " 
he would ejaculate as a wave swept over them ; " Breathe ! " when it had passed and 
their heads were out for an instant. After awhile they seemed near shore. " I'll 
sound ! " said the mate, and unlocking his feet he let himself down and could touch 
bottom. " Next wave run ! " was his brief direction, and they did, but only two got 
ashore. The third swam in on the second wave and was dragged upon the beach. 
The last man came a moment later, bruised and insensible, but alive. 

" Them Injuns was a cryin' and hollerin' and callin' on the Lord, and every mother's 
son of 'em went to Davy Jones' locker. It's all very well, but I 'low nothin' but that old 
buoy saved my life," says the mate. 

All things considered, fewer wrecks — a serious consequence — than might be expected 
have taken place on this coast. The men living along the shore are adepts at riding the 
surf and every form of seamanship, as might be expected of whalemen and fishermen. 
They can therefore render the most efficient help possible, and even the coast-guard 
find themselves in the background occasionally when a vessel is reported ashore. 



SUBURBAN HOMES AND LONG 
ISLAND FARMS. 




ONG ISLAND must inevitably play an important part in furnishing suburban 
homes for people whose business interests lie in New York. For miles along 
the Sound the shore is lined with village after village, made accessible to New 
York by the New York and New Haven Railroad and by the numerous boats 
that ply daily between Norwalk and the East River, Now that Long Island has been 
made more accessible by a new railroad system and by improved terminal facilities in 
Brooklyn and at Hunter's Point, the manifest advantages of its north and south coast lines 
and hitermediate places must attract attention. The city can be reached in an hour from 
points forty miles distant, and within that distance there are the most delightful and 
salubrious localities for both transient and permanent residence. This region must 
eventually become taken up for dwellings, and at no remote period, judging from the 
inducements to settlers that the railroads are now offering in the shape of transporta- 
tion privileges for building materials and free annual tickets for terms proportioned 
to the character of the improvements undertaken. The extraordinary salubrity of 
the region, the enjoyments of its seaside resorts, the bathing, the fishing, and the 
variety of recreations that its facilities confer, together with the cheapness of trans- 
portation, low cost of living, and contiguity to the cit}', must speedily result in a large 
influx of a new population. No such convenient homes can be secured anywhere 
about New York, and certainly none from which the city can be reached with such 
regularity and comfort. The vicissitudes of the ferries in the winter time will be 
ended for people who live on Long Island with the completion of the Brooklyn 
Bridge, and this long neglected and comparatively unknown territory will assume 
its proper relation to the metropolis. 

To farmers and new settlers generally the Long Island Railroad offers similar induce- 
ments in the shape of free transportation, for certain periods, of passengers, and important 
reductions on freight on building materials, subject only to conditions that are a protec- 
tion against abuse and that are in every way attractive to new comers. There are over 
four hundred thousand acres of unimproved lands on Long Island, within a hundred miles 
of New York, consisting for the most part of good arable land, as good as any that has 
made fortune upon fortune in any part of the island for thrifty owners, but which has gone 
unknown and condemned through the shiftlessness and perversity of Long Islanders 
themselves. Christened "barrens" by ignorant, injurious and stupid persons who 
•concerned themselves with Long Island interests at a time when it was possible for such 



72 SUBURBAN HOMES. 

persons to make or mar them, barren those lands have in truth remained as regards- 
human interference. One writer in a well known work on Long Island, published 
years ago, in speaking of a station on the Main Line, described himself as standing 
in a desert of "liquefied sand," and otherwise drew a picture of forbidding wastes and 
hopeless sterility. And yet on the very spot of which he wrote thus, there is to-day,, 
and has been for nearly fifteen years, a most prosperous and successful nursery, 
and nurseries are not commonly sought to be established in sterile and sandy barrens. 

Mr. Kinsella, the distinguished and able editor of the Brooklyn Eagle, investigated 
the question personally and wrote about it as follows : 

" The earnest efforts which the Eagle has recently made to direct general attention, 
to the neglected lands of Long Island, we are confident will be attended with success, 
for the genius of the great territory, so long misnamed the 'barrens,' might have: 
said with the Grecian chieftain: 'Give me but light; Ajax asks no more.' There are 
children now born who will be able to tell, to the surprise of those who hear them,, 
that in their youth there were five hundred thousand acres of land on Long Island,, 
within between one and two hours railroad ride of New York — already one of the great: 
cities of the world — that had not, up to that time, contributed anything to the support, 
or the independence of man. The anomaly of a metropolis at one end of Long 
Island and a wilderness on the other, will very soon cease to exist. There is not any- 
thing in the world more extraordinary to-day than the fact that there are tens of 
thousands of able-bodied men in these cities, idle while able and willing to work, 
crowded with their families into tenement houses where life is hardly endurable, and. 
that there are at the same time tens of thousands of acres of land lying idle within 
a day's walk of these cities, which is capable of yielding employment, sustenance and. 
independence to every one of these unwilling idlers. This state of things is a disgrace 
to our civilization, boastful of nothing so much as of its ability and disposition to 
turn even the hidden forces of nature to the comfort and convenience of man. The 
old and dreary question : ' Can the wild lands of Long Island be cultivated ? ' has 
no longer any pertinence in the consideration of that other question : ' Ought they be ? ' 
for these lands are being cultivated. On nearly every part of this territory, settle- 
ments have been made by thrifty men who had the courage to think and act for them- 
selves. In these settlements, many of them carved out of the very heart of the ' bar- 
rens,' is the practical proof of what can be done. Take the question of fruit-raising, 
one of the least laborious and one of the most reliable of agricultural industries. In, 
the settlements at Brentwood and Central Islip, in the very heart of the wild lands, 
there are gardens and orchards to-day containing trees loaded down with fruit of the 
finest kind. In one settlement apples have been produced this year measuring twelve 
and a half inches in circumference and weighing fourteen ounces ; peaches weighing 
half a pound and pears in abundance. Nor is the territory in question a place 
where health and life are endangered in the pursuit of the means of living. There is no 
disagreement on this question : that the central region of Long Island is one of the 
healthiest countries in the world. The enterprising and the humane citizens of these 
cities must take up the question of these lands. Wealth is not to be created at Wash- 
ington by making money out of paper, although knaves tell fools that it can be. 
We have unused wealth at our very doors, and if we can only add to it the wealth 
created by honest labor. Long Island, as a whole, will blossom like the rose, whil& 
supporting in comfort, outside of Kings County, not a sluggish population of a hundred 
thousand, but an energetic, restless and still increasing population of half a million." 



SUBURBAN HOMES. 'jz 

There can be little question of the solution of this problem. The efforts that are 
now being made must result in a certain, if tardy, justification of Long Island, and in 
the acquisition of the large, thrifty and prosperous population that her geographical 
position and her natural wealth entitle her to. The relation of the Long Island Rail- 
road to the interests of Long Island is well understood and fully recognized, and it 
shall not be justly said of its management that its duty in this regard was neglected. 

The main body of the land in question extends from Farmingdale to Riverhead, a dis- 
tance of forty miles, and lies within about four miles of the railroad on each side. Thus 
the railroad atfords direct communication with a vast region of as fine garden and farmino- 
land as is to be found in the State of New York, all within one or two hours of the great 
markets of New York and Brooklyn. No such opportunities can be found on any other 
railroad in this State. The land is comprised within an elevated plateau, the sides of 
which are parallel with the railroad for a distance of about fifty miles — about loo feet 
above tidewater and gently sloping to the south about 20 feet to the mile. The soil is a 
fine warm yellow loam, some places a clay loam, and upon an average about two feet deep 
before any substrata can be reached. In many places it is much deeper. The underlying 
stratum is a firm, compact bed of sand and gravel, without loose gravel or quicksands, and 
forming a complete and perfect underdrain. The soil is not leachy or porous ; it is easy 
to clear and easy to till. There are no stones in it or upon it. Any of this land cleared 
presents the most beautiful garden surface imaginable, fit for an onion or a tulip-bed, and 
will produce anything in crops or fruit, grass, corn, and grain, that any lands in this lati- 
tude can produce, and this by ordinary cultivation. It is not here that the lands require 
extra cost and care in culture, extra or immoderate manure in fertilizing. They only need 
the care and culture that all or any lands require. More than forty of the most eminent 
agriculturists and practical farmers in the State of New York who examined carefully these 
Long Island lands during the last thirty years, all testify in the most positive manner in 
favor of their productive qualities. 

The evidence to sustain these important facts may be found in the ten new villnges and 
settlements made in these lands in the past thirty years from Farmingdale to Yaphank — 
Farmingdale, Deer Park, Brentwood, Central Islip, Lakeland, Holbrook, Waverly, Med- 
ford, and the two settlements, Edinvale and Bohemiaville, a little off from the railroad to 
the south. These settlements — Edinvale, made by Mr. W. J. Spiner, and the Bohemian 
settlement — were made in the darkest part of " the plains." They are both highly success- 
ful, and possess comfortable homes, churches, schools, and the finest gardens, fruit orchards,, 
meadows, corn and wheat fields, that can be found anywhere on Long Island. They have 
been settled by intrepid men and their families, who came into the wilderness, cleared and 
cultivated the land. To show the extent and location of these lands, we propose to offer 
the census of 1845, as published by the Rev. Wm. Prime. Nobody has ever disputed this 
statement as to the uncultivated lands in Suffolk County, and if it were true then, it is true 
now, for no thousands of acres of lands have been cleared and cultivated since 1845. The 
new settlements do not occupy thousands of acres. 

In the old town of Huntington, which is centrally distant from New York about 35 
miles, there were, by the census of 1845, 50,968 acres of unimproved land. The Long 
Island Railroad passes through the middle of this great tract. It is all good land, most 
of it of the very best quality. 

The next town is Islip, centrally distant about 42 miles from New York, and contained 
in 1845, 63,984 acres of unimproved land. This unimproved land is all good and culti- 
vatable, as a rule. 



74 SUBURBAN HOMES. 

The next town east is Brookhaven, which contained 117,357 ^cres of unimproved land 
in 1845. The Raih'oad passes through the centre of these lands, which are good and 
arable. 

Next, the town of Riverhead has about 25,000 acres of unimproved land. 

The towns of East and West Hampton have over 50,000 acres in each of unimproved 
land. 

Making in all 449,953 acres of unimproved land unoccupied and uncultivated in 
Suffolk County. All these vast tracts, as a rule, are good and cultivatable land. Wood 
and timber grow very rapidly on all these lands, but the axe and the fires in the past fifty 
years have destroyed most of the wood and timber thereon. 

It is to this great new country in the midst of an old country that settlers are invited. 



NOTES ON A FORTY MILE RIDE ON THE LONG 

ISLAND RAILROAD. 

BY THE PRESIDENT AND SECRETARY OF THE FARMERS' CLUB OF THE 
AMERICAN INSTITUTE, AUGUST 9, 1878. 




T 8 : 30 A. M., we left Flatbush and Brookhm. Thermometer 78°. During the 
day, judging by our feelings, the heat must have risen to 84". Next day the 
New York Times reported that at Hudnut's tlie range was from 80° to 91° 
Fahrenheit. The breeze throughout the day was balmy and delightful. The 
beautiful panorama begins with the old town of Jamaica. Here trees, flowers, gardens, 
lawns and lovely residences dawned upon the vision. All along from Jamaica, on both 
sides of the railroad, thrifty fields of corn waved in the breeze. How bright and green 
and lusty it looked ! It ranged from 7 to 9 feet high. This judgment was afterward 
verified by close observation. 

This scene was constantly repeated in varjdng changes as we passed Queens, Hyde 
Park and Mineola. But at Garden City the breadth and extent of the fields enlarged 
the view. There corn-fields of unsurpassed beauty extended into hundreds of acres. 
Interspersed were mown meadows and harvested fields of rye and oats, also numbering 
acres by the hundred. On a previous visit we had seen these fields covered by a thrifty 
grass, tall rye and oats, making a sea of yellow and green of varied undulations. But on 
our last trip the grains had been harvested, and were gathered into great stacks awaiting 
the steam thrashers to fit them for the market, and the hay gathered into barns for winter 
use. A most pleasing feature of the landscape on the right and on the left was the 
variety of color and beauty of the trees, consisting of Norway maples, chestnuts, Euro- 
pean white ash and Norway spruce, hemlock, white pine, arbor vitas, European larch, fir, 
balsam fir, horse chestnut, apple, cherr\% peach, linden, Scotch elm, althea, juniper, 
Scotch pine, weeping willow, brown beech. Napoleon willow, soft and sugar maple, and 
many other varieties not remembered or unknown to us. In the region many miles 
around Brentwood, this adornment is due to Mr. E. F. Richardson, whose nurseries of 
these variety of trees are the finest, thriftiest, and most perfect ever seen by us am^-here. 
These trees were planted from the seed, stand in drills close together, and are plowed 
and cultivated between the rows. 

On Mr. Richardson's place the soil of yellow, containing black humus, extended more 
than two feet in depth. We pulled some samples of self-sown timothy along the oak and 
pine lands measuring five feet in height. Red top and clover abounded in the cleared 
fields, also sweet grasses and a profusion of white clover. 



/6 NOTES ON LONG ISLAND LAND. 

" Barrens " is a misnomer ; fertile plains and woodlands would better speak the truth. 
The trees have been rendered blackened skeletons by the frequent fires raging through 
these untilled and uncared-for brush-wood lands. All along the road from Westbury, 
Hicksville, and to Farmingdale, are alternate fields of fine corn, meadow pasture, buck- 
wheat, red clover, potatoes, cabbages, beets, and well-tended gardens. From this last 
place we come to the bugbear of Long Island — the bush lands. 

At Brentwood some energetic farming is profitably done, and the soil seems prompt 
in rewarding every degree of attention bestowed upon it. 

The only desolation is the absence of stalwart young farmers, scattered over these 
neglected acres, to give the Island the real appearance of thrift, such as Mr. Buger some 
time since initiated at Central Islip. 

Here, too, Mr. James Slater, proprietor of the Berkely in this city, has by energy,. 
means and intelligence, transformed condemned " Barrens " into fertile fields. The 
scrub oaks and burnt pines have disappeared, root and branch, in a single year, and an 
elegant cottage has risen, as if by magic, surrounded by grass, rye, clover, trees, fences, 
lawns, flowers. Where the soil is poor and worthless, neither trees, nor grass, nor 
crops will grow. 

But here everything will grow with ordinary care and attention. The Long Island 
climate is wonderfully salubrious, the air cool, balmy, and tempered in winter by the 
Gulf Stream, so that the thermometer seldom rises above 90° or falls to zero. Tor- 
nadoes do not occur. The water is good and easily reached from the surface. It 
never fails in winter or summer, and the roads without care are good, and ai'e neither 
sandy nor muddy. 

Neither Mr. Chambers nor I own a foot of these lands, and only in the interest 
of agriculture have we traced these notes of observation. 

Among the most distinguished citizens who have commended these lands, stand 
first and foremost Dr. Edgar F. Peck, Gen. Chandler, Chas. Henry Hall, Samuel Allen,. 
Dr. Mitchell, General Dix, Prof, Renwick, Dr. Underbill, T, B. Wakeman, Francis 
Barretto, John G. Bergen, Winslow C. Watson, Solon Robinson, Mr. W. Hinsdale, and 
scores of others, whose character and standing render their opinions, judgments and 
information beyond doubt or question. In conclusion we must say that the soil is pro- 
ductive, that it is easily cleared and readily and cheaply tilled, that the land is cheap and 
accessible, and that it has a good, convenient and never-failing market near at hand, in 
New York City. That the climate, air and water are unsurpassed. After what we have 
seen, after what we have learned, after what has been proven by gentlemen of experi- 
ence, we must conclude that Long Island lands are, all things considered, most desirable 
for farms, gardens, vineyards, orchards and nurseries, and most healthful to reside upon. 
Here no malaria lurks in swamp or morass or fen, on this central elevation of beautiful 
Long Island. 

The Long Island Railroad is well located, and under the present receiver it is better 
managed than ever. With a liberal management and generous support of the roads, the 
Island lands must soon be occupied. And, finally, with a hundred acres of the pine 
lands cleared and a regular attendance upon the meetings of the Farmers' Club of the 
American Institute, any young farmer of energy must succeed in Long Island farming. 



TO NEW SETTLERS. 




HE following is a copy of the circular issued by the Long Island Railroad 
Company for the information of new settlers, and it explains very clearly 
what the inducements are that are held out to them. It should be understood 
that the railroad company does not own an acre of land : 

LONG ISLAND RAILROAD. 

THOS. R. SHARP, Receiver. 



NOTICE TO INTENDING SETTLERS. 

The Long Islafid Railroad Company offers to new comers settling and making ijnprove- 
ments on Long Lsland, free transportation for passengers east and west, and 50 per cent, 
£Oficession from current freight rates eastward, with such liinitations, and under such condi- 
tions, as are hereinafter described : 

1. Applications for certificates conferring these privileges must be made on the printed 
forms supplied by the Receiver. 

2. The qualifications of applicants and the correctness of their statements must be 
substantiated and authenticated to the satisfaction of the General Superintendent of the 
Long Island Railroad. 

3. The applicant must be an actual New Settler, and not a previous resident. The 
object of this reduction is solely to induce new settlers to come in and assist the old in 
the development of the country. Applicants must improve the land they have purchased 
and occupy it, otherwise they will be debarred from the advantages of this reduction. 

4. The name of the station nearest the acquired property must be stated in the appli- 
cation and will be embodied in the certificate. 

5. One certificate will be issued entitling the new settler to free transportation from 
Brooklyn or Long Island City to destination for himself, his family, laborers and domes- 
tics, when moving; to 50 per cent, reduction from current rates on bricks, lime and 
lumber from Long Island City eastward, provided the articles are for use in building on 
the premises described in the application, and on live-stock from the same point, for a 
period of one year from the date of the certificate. 

6. Another certificate will be issued entitling the applicant to free transportation for 
himself, for one year, between the station named in his certificate and Long Island City 
or Brooklyn. 

7. The land must have been purchased within three months previous to the date of 
application. 



78 TO NEW SETTLERS. 

Agents will be supplied with blank fortns of application, and will forward them to 

S. SPENCER, Gen'l Sup't, Long Island City, 
duly filed in and sig?ied whenever occasion demands. On investigation, if found satisfactory ^ 
certificates will be issued in due form. THOS. R. SHARP, Receiver. 



FOR SALE, 

1,200 Acres of Excellent Farm, Garden and Fruit Land, 

Forty-two Miles from JYew York, on Long Lsland, mid adjoining 
the LowJl Island Railroad. 



This tract is on the northerly side of the railroad and between the villages of Brentwood and 
Central Islip, a little over half a mile from either depot or station, and has a frontage of about a mile 
and a half on the railroad, Avhere the land is loo feet above tide-water, distant about five rwiles to the 
south-side shore of the Island. From the railroad the land extends northerly to the top of the ridge 
of hills or high land, dividing the waters that flow into Long Island Sound on the north, and into the 
Great South Bay on the south, and the tract has a southern aspect, with a regular descent of about 
twenty feet to the mile, thus presenting a very beautiful surface. The soil is of the ver}' best kind — 
*a fine, warm, yellow loam of about three feet deep — and is the very best fruit land on Long Island, as 
is fully shown by the nurseries, orchards, gardens, and fruit-yards now in full bearing on the adjoining- 
land, on which there are also very fine and beautiful improvements. There is alargequantity of wood 
on this tract — pine near the railroad, on the northerly part oak and chestnut of very thrifty growth. 

Wood and all kinds of fruit and ornamental trees grow very rapidly on this land. It is entirel)r 
free from stone, is not porous or leachy, is easy to clear and easy to till. There are churches, schools,, 
and post-office near. The price is $20 per acre, on easy terms of payment, and will be sold in lots of 
100 acres or more. Title good. Smaller lots or parcels will be sold for cash. The price of such 
will be according to location. Cannot sell off fronts and choice parts for $20. The price of land 
adjoining this runs from $50 to $200 per acre. 

The situation is perfectly healthy, entirely free from all local or general diseases, and the climate 
mild and pleasant. It is not untried land ; it has been thoroughly tested, and is found equal to the 
very best land on Long Island. 

Gen. John A. Dix, in an address before the New York State Agricultural Society, at Saratoga,, 
in 1859, made an exceedingly favorable and interesting notice of the climate, soil, and productions 
of Long Island, and which notice has been extensively published and often quoted. A letter 
addressed to him, asking if his experience and observation upon Long Island since 1859 had con- 
firmed the opinions he then expressed, brought forth the following answer: 

3 West Twenty-first Street, New York, April 12, 1878. 
Dear Sir — The opinion I expressed some years ago in my address before tlie State Agricultural Society in regard to- 
the fertility of Long Island is confirmed by my own experience. I have since then purchased forty acres of land at West 
Hampton, within a few hundred yards of the ocean, and built a house for my residence. I have raised one hundred 
bushels of corn (in the ear) and twenty bushels of wheat to the acre, and vegetables as fine as any I ever saw. 

The Island ought to be, and I have no doubt will be in time, the garden of the city of New Yorli, and, as all know,. 
its climate is unsurpassed in this latitude for healthfulness and for mildness, both in Summer and Winter. 

Yours, truly, JOHN A. DIX. 

Another letter from Gen. Dix, written from Long Island, and dated June 28, 1878, says: "My 
crops of wheat, oats and corn are in very fine condition, and of great promise." 

Mr. Richardson's nursery at Brentwood, L. I., near this land, is the finest on the Island. Its 
trees are the best growth and most thrifty that can be found anywhere. Mr. R. is a New England 
man, and his crops and cultivation are of the very finest kind. Apply to 

April ist, 1879. A. J. BLEECKER & SON, 189 Broadway, New York. 



MAIN LINE 



JAMAICA. 

gf miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph, etc. Fare, 30 cents ; excursion, 
50 cents; i month, $6.75 ; 3 months, $19; 6 months, $34- 5°; 12 months, $55. 

A. B. Pettit (Jamaica Hotel), 30 guests, $8 to $10 per week. Private Boarding House, 
10 guests. Mrs. A. Napier, 8 guests. Mrs. F. G. Grossman, 15 guests. Mrs. Susan Johnson,. 
10 guests. $6 to $8 per week. The newspapers published here are the Long Island Democrat^ Long 
Island Farmer, and the Jamaica Standard. 

Ghurches. — Reformed Dutch, Presbyterian, Episcopal (Grace Church), Methodist, Baptist^ 
German Lutheran, Roman Catholic. ■ 

QUEENS. 

13I miles from Long Island City. 300 and 400 inhabitants. Post Office and Telegraph. Fare, 40- 
cents ; excursion, 70 cents ; i month, $7.50 ; 3 months, $20.75 I 6 months, $37.50 ; 12 months, $60. 

B. Lane's Hotel, near the station. 

HYDE PARK. 

\b\ miles from Long Island City. Population, 100. Fare, 50 cents ; excursion, 90 cents ; 
I month, $8 ; 3 months, $22.25 ; 6 months, $40.50 ; 12 months, $65. 

MINEOLA. 

19 miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Population, 200. Daily trains 
east and west. Fare, 55 cents ; excursion, 95 cents ; i month, $8.75 ; 3 months, $24 ; 6 months,. 
$43.50; 12 months, $70. 

Hotel.— Mineola Hotel. Alfred Areson, Prop. 20 guests. Rates from $6 to $8. 

Bc^RDiNG House. — Mrs. Wm. Smith, 10 guests, $4»to $7 per week. 

GARDEN CITY. 

19 miles from Long Island Git}-. Post Office and Telegraph. Fare, 55 cents ; excursion, 
95 cents ; i month, $8.75 ; 3 months, $24 ; 6 months, $43.50 ; 12 months, $70. 
Garden City Hotel, F. E. Nickerson, 100 guests. $3 per day. 
For private board, address E. C. Pool, Postmaster. 

heivPpstead. 

2o| miles from Long Island City. Population about 3,500, Telegraph and Post Office. Churches,. 
Episcopal, Roman Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, and African Methodist. Gas-lights, Public 
Halls, and Fire Department. Trains each way daily. Two newspapers, Enquirer 2LnA Queens County 
Sentinel. Fare, 60 cents; excursion, $1; i month, $9; 3 months, $24.50; 6 months, $44.50;. 
12 months, $72. 

Hotels.— Hewlett's Hotel, Mrs. Eliza Hewlett, Prop.. 30 guests ; price, $10. European Hotels 



no MAIN LINE. 

James "Whaley & Son, Prop., 20 transient. Central Hotel, John B. Pettit, 30 transient. Sammis 
Hotel, Chas. Sammis, 15, $8 to $10. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. J. Mitchell Hewlett accommodates 20 ; price, $8. William Ketcham, 
12, $6 to $8. Mrs. Stephen Bedell, 5 to 7, $5 to $8. 

Hotels and Boarding Houses about 5 minutes from Depot. 

WESTBURY. 

22 miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Population about 700. Trains each way daily. 
Fare, 60 cents ; excursion, $1.10; 6 months, $49 ; yearl}', $75. 

Hotel. — B. Powers. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Jacob Hicks, 8 guests. Charles A. Mott, 12. Richard Titus, 10. 
Richard Willets, 15. Rates range from .$5 to $7. 

H I C K S V I L L E . 

25|- miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Population, 500. Trains each 
way dail3^ Fare, 70 cents ; excursion, $1.30 ; 6 months, $53 ; 12 months, $81. 

Grand Central Hotel, William Kloenne, Prop., 35 guests, rates from %t to $8. 

CENTRAL PAEK. 

28| miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Population about 200. Fifty or sixty residents. 
Pare, 80 cents; excursion, $1.45 ; 6 months, $54; 12 months, $83. 
Hotel. — Chas. Bertrand. 
A pretty little settlement in a fertile place. Good gardens. 

FARMINGD ALE. 

30^ miles from Long Island Cit\'. Post Office. Population, 700. Trains each way daily. Fare, 
85 cents; excursion, $1.55 ; 6 months, $56; 12 months, $85. 

Hotel. — Farmingdale Hotel. 20 guests, jno. Noon, Prop. Price, $6 to $8. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. E. H. Smith, 7 guests ; price, $5 to %b. William Dupignac, 
25 ; price, $5 to $6. W. F. Newcomb, 5 guests. 

Churches. — Methodist, Episcopal, Protestant, Quaker Meeting House, and Free Methodist. 

WEST DEER PARK. 

351^ miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Population, 75. Fare, $1 ; excursion, $1.80; 
six months, $58 ; twelve months, $89. 

A new station for taking water and farm produce. 

DEER PARK. 

36J miles from Long Island Cit)'. Post Office and Telegraph. Population about 100. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, $1.05 ; excursion, $1.85 ; six months, $59 ; yearly, $90. 

Hotel. — Deer Park Hotel, F. W. Rohman proprietor, accommodates about 20 ; rates from 
5 to 7 dollars. 

Private Boarding House.— Mrs. Gideon SeamaiV, 14 guests, rates from 5 to 8 dollars. 

BRENTWOOD. 

41^ miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Population, 75. Trains each 
way daily. Fare, $1.15 ; excursion, $2.10 ; six months, $62 ; 12 months, $95. 
Episcopal Church. Union School, 



MAIN LINE. 

CENTRAL ISLIP. 

43J miles from Long Island Cit}-. Post Office. Population about 100. Trains each way daily, 
pare, $1.20; excursion, $2.20; six months, $63; twelve months, ifgy. 

Episcopal and Methodist churches. Free Public School. 

Boarding Hocses. — T. E. Bridger accommodates 6, JMr. Brinsley 12, Mr. Saddington 4, Mr. 
Adams 6. Prices for all 6 dollars per week. 

LAKELAND 

48 miles from Long Island Cit}-. Post dricc and Telegraph. Fare, $1. 35 ; excursion, $2.40 ; 
six months, $69 ; a year, $106. 

Hotel. — Ronkonkoma Hotel (late Carpenter's^ 50 to 60 guests. Henry V\'cld, owner. Distant 
from station 2 miles. 

Private Boarding Houses. — George Raynor, 10 guests. Rates from 6 to S dollars. 

HOLBROOK. 

Holbrook is about fifty miles from New York City, on the Long Island Railroad, with a church, 
r?chool and post-office, also a large cigar factory now in successful operation. The soil is better in 
this vicinity than in some parts of Long Island, and has been made to produce all kinds of vegeta- 
bles, grains, etc. It is also perfectly healthy, being free from marshes, consequently no miasmatic 
influences prevail. The drives to the beautiful lake Ronkonkoma, two miles north, and through 
Lincoln ave., in a direct line five miles south, to the villages along the great South bav, render the 
place a pleasant resort for families desiring a quiet retreat in the summer time. 

Y A P H A N K . 

59 miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Population, 400. Trains each 
(vay daily. Fare, $1.65 ; excursion, $2.95; six months, $76; yearlv, $117. 
Churches. — Episcopal and Presbyterian, 
Public Building : SuiTolk County Alms House. Stores : One. 

MANOR. 

65. V miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Population, 500. Trains each 
way daily. Fare, $i.So; excursion, >?3.30. 

Hotel. — Manorville Hotel, Prop. H. D. Raynor, accommodates about 12. Rates from 
5 to 7 dollars. 

Priv.ate Boarding Houses. — Mrs. M. Moger, accommodates 6 to 8. E. V. Campbell, 12. 
A. B. Lane, 6. R. T. Osborn, 6 to 8. Rates from 5 to 7 dollars. 

Churches. — Presbyterian and Methodist. 

BAITING HOLLOW, 

69^ miles from Long Island City. Population, 175. Post Office. Trains each way daily. Fare, 
.fi.95 ;. excursion, §3. 50. 

Privatc Boarding Houses.— J. Frank Corwin, 10; John L. Young, 10; John \V. Fanning, 15 ; 
Isaac Price, 8 ; John Edwards, 5. Rates from 5 to 7 dollars, according to room and time. 

Congregational Church. t 

R I V E R H E A D . 

73| miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Trains each way daily. Popula- 
tion, 2,678. Fare, $2.05 ; excursion, $3 70. 

Hotels.— Griffin Hotel accommodates 75 to So; H. L. Griffin, proprietor. Suff"olk Hotel 
accommodates 50 ; George W. Corwin, proprietor. Long Island House accommodates 70 ; J. P. Terrj% 
proprietor. Rates from 8 to 10 dollars, according to room ard time. 



82 MAIN LINE. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. E. L. Vail accommodates 20 guests ; I\Irs. Sweez}', 30 guests ; 
John Benjamin, 20 guests ; Henry Howell, 20 guests. Rates from 6 to 8 dollars per week. 

Has six churches : Episcopal, Congregational, Methodist, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, and 
Swedenborgian. 

The Riverhead A^ews is published here. 

JAMESPORT. 

78I miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Trains each way daily. Population, 475, Fare, 
$2.20 ; excursion, $400. 

Hotels. — Miamogue House, I. Seymour Corwin, Prop., accommodates 30 to 35 guests. Rates 
from 7 to 8 dollars. Sunny Side House, A. H. Corwin, Prop., accommodates 30 guests. Rates fromt 
7 to 8 dollars. Bay Side House, B. H. Jones, Prop., 30 guests. Rates §7 to fg. 

Private Boarding Houses. — William H. Corwin, 10 guests; William Halleck, 12 guests; 
Richard Albertson, 20 guests; I. F. Robinson, 8 guests. J. Woodhull, 15 guests. S. R. Downs, 
10 guests. M. T. Benjamin, 27 guests. Rates from $5 to $7. 

Churches. — Congregational and Methodist. 

AQUEBOGUE. 

\\ miles from Jamesport station and 3i miles from Riverhead depot. Post Office. 

Private Boarding Houses. — E. H. Wells accommodates 30 guests ; L. H. Terry, 40 ; G. W. 
Young, 25 ; P. F.Terry, 10 ; Halsey Young, 35 ; E. B. Young, ^5 ; George O. Reeve, 20. Rates 
from $5 to $7. 

Church. — Congregational. 

NORTHVILLE. 

2 miles from Jamesport station and 5 miles from Riverhead. Success Post Office. 
Private Boarding Houses at this place. Mr. R. Terry, 20 ; Simeon Benjamin, 20. Rates 
from $5 to $7. 

Church. — Congregational. 

M ATTITUCK. 

83 miles from Long Island City. Population, 800. Post Office and Telegraph. Trains eack 
way daily. Fare, $2.30 ; excursion, $4.10. 

Hotel. — Mattituck House, George M. Belts, Prop., 50 guests. Rates from $7 to $10. Five 
minutes walk from depot. 

Private Boarding Houses. — S. H. Tuthill, 10 guests. George A. Cox, 10. Mrs. R. H. 
Hazard, 10. Rates from |6 to $8. 

Three churches : Methodist, Presbyterian and Episcopal. 

CUTCHOGUE. 

85f miles from Long Island City. Population, 800. Post Office. Trains each way daily. 
Fare, •"?2.35 ; excursion, $4.25. 

Hotel. — New Suffolk Hotel, Wm. McNish, Prop., accommodates about 90 guests. 2i miles 
from depot. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. E. E. Ilorton, 15 guests. Mrs. J. G. Tutliill, 25. Mr. H. B. 
Halsey, 15. Mr. O. H. Tuthill, 15. Mr. Foster R. Fanning, 20. Mr. H. B. Tuthill, 30. I. I. Tut- 
hill, 10. Ira B. Tuthill, Jr., 15. Capt. John Jennings, 15. Rates range from $5 to $8. 

Four churches : Roman Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, and Congregational. 

PECONIC. 

88| miles from Long Island City. Fare. $2.45 ; excursion, $4.40. 
Post Office. Population, 400. Trains each way daily. 



MAIN LINE. 83 

Private Boarding Houses. — Miss Helen M. Green accommodates 10 guests. Capt. J. M. 
Worth, 15. H. D. Horton, 5. S. D. Corwin, 6. I\Irs. Nancy L. Ilorton, 10. Wm. Henry Corwin, 6. 
Mrs. Julia W. Fitz, 6. Rates from )?5 to $7. 

SOUTHOLD. 

go.V miles from Long Island Cit\'. Post Office and Telegraph. Popvilation, 875 Trains each 
way daily. Fare, !^2,50 ; excursion, $4.50. 

Hotel.— Judd's Hotel, F. L. Judd, Prop., accommodates 75 guests. Rates from .$7 to $10. 
Three minutes walk from depot. Conway's Hotel. 

Priv.\te Boarding Hol'ses. — Mrs. Frederick Maxwell, accommodates 40 guests. Joseph C. 
Booth, 15. William H. Tuthill, 15. S. Bailey Corry, 20. Capt. Benj. Wells, 10. Rates from $6, 
$5 and $10. 

Churches. — Presbyterian, Methodist, Roman Catholic, and Universalist. 

Newspaper. — The Long Island Traveler is published here. 

GREENPORT. 

94I miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Bank. Population, 2,500. 
Trains each way daily. Fare, $2.60 ; excursion, $4.70. 

Hotels. — Clark House, Misses Clark's, 40 guests. Rates from $10 to $12, according to room 
and time. *r mile from depot. Wyandank, C. C. Wright, Prop., 75. Rates from .f 7 to $12. Peconic 
House, 80. Burr House, Mrs. Burr, Prop., 20. Rates from $7 to $12. Greenport House, Jas. Y. 
Wells, Prop., 30. Rates from .^7 to $10. Booth House, Chas. H. Booth, 70. Rates $8 to $10. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Roe, 50 guests. Mrs. Jane Post, 8. Mrs. M. J. Ashbey, 10. 
Mrs. S. H. Townsend, 8. Mrs. Ackly, 10. Rates from $7 to $10, according to room and time. 
James Timpsons, 20 guests, $7 to $10. 

Churches. — Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian, Congregational, Episcopal, Roman Catholic, and 
Lutheran. 

Newspapers published : Suffolk Times and Republican Watchman. 

SHELTER ISLAND, 

Directly south of Greenport, comprises 8,000 acres. The shores of the island are very irregular. Upon 
all sides bold, rugged cliffs and headlands project into the water, and creeks and inlets penetrate far 
into the interior. The surface is shelly and rolling, some portions rising to considerable elevation. 
The whole of the island presents the most charming variety of hill and dale, groves, bays and creeks 
to be found along the entire length of Long Island. Gardiner's bay on the east and Peconic bay on 
the west, both afford excellent opportunities for yachting. The waters are sufficiently deep to give 
anchorage to large-sized vessels, and are a favorite rendezvous for various yachting clubs. The air 
is pure, tonic and bracing, and, while protected from the rough blasts of the ocean, has sufficient of 
the healing and strengthening qualities of the sea. The bays afford good fishing ; the principal fish 
caught are bass, blue, black and fiat fish. Also Spanish mackerel, porgies, and weak fish or chequct. 
A beautiful sandy beach, with sloping bottom, surrounds the island and offers unsurpassed facilities 
for bathing, healthful and free from danger. The roads are good, and all the drives are charming. 
The Shelter Island Camp Meeting Association own a property of over 300 acres, situated directly 
opposite Greenport, which is known as Prospect, an appropriate name, on account of the extensive 
views it affords. The ground slopes gradually from the beach to a height of over 200 feet, upon which 
an observatory has been erected. From it a magnificent view is obtained, embracing Greenport and 
.Orient, Long Island Sound for a distance of fifty miles, with hundreds of vessels passing daily, Gar- 
diner's bay and island, Montauk Point and the ocean on the east ; Sag Harbor and the ocean south, 
and Long Island and the shore of Connecticut again to the west for from twenty to thirty miles. 

Hotels. — The Manhanset House is the finest hotel east of Brighton Beach. It has capacity for 
over 200 guests. Its location is one of the finest on the whole island, and it is as well kept as any 
first class watering-place hotel in the country. $12 to $15 per week. Prospect House, 150 guests, 
George H. Shaffer, manager, .$12 to $15. Private: Bay View House, 40, also Large Restaurant ; 
Mrs. Nevins, 25 ; Mrs. Bo:;rdman, 20 ; Mr. Walters, 30 ; terms, $9 to %\o. 



34 SAG HARBOR BRANCH. 

These and Prospect House are near Camp Meeting grounds, which is contained in a beautiful 
amphitheatre of 15 acres of grove ; Chapel on the entrance. Near the ground are ten furnished 
Cottages to rent, $150 to $300 for the season. Three churches. Ferry connects with all trains. 

ORIENT. 

A great deal of produce and a world of fish are shipped hence to New York. On Orient Point, 
the eastern extremity of the peninsula, is an excellent hotel, the Orient Point House. It is delight- 
fully situated, with unsurpassed attractions, and is yearly visited by hundreds. There are also two 
boarding houses, which take each 30 guests. The Methodists and Congregationalists have each 
erected a church, and there are two public schools. 



SAG HARBOR BRANCH, 

MORICHES (Proper Name EAST PORT). 

70J miles from Long Island City. Fare, Si. 95 ; excursion, $3.55. 

Hotel. — Bay Side House, H. J. Rogers, Prop., 20 guests. $8 to $10 per week. 

Station for East and Centre Moriches. Trains each way daily. 

CENTRE MORICHES. 

Three miles from Moriches station. Post Office. Population (census 1S75) 1,754. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, $1.95 ; excursion, $3.55. 

Hotels. — Long Island Hotel, G. S. Terry, Prop., accommodates about 35 guests. Rates from 
$7 to $10. Riverside House, John S. Baldwin, Prop., 60 guests. Rates §3 to $10. Ketchum Hotel, 
T. V. Ketchum, Prop., transient. 

Private Boarding Houses.— William B. Howell, 30 guests. H. Robinson, 20. E. P. Jarvis, 20. 
Mrs. Samuel Terry, 20. Mr. J. H. Bishop, 35. A. Edwards, 25. David Robinson, 30. L. G. 
Terry, 20. Elias Tapping, 12. Rates of board from %b to $8. 

Churches. — Methodist and Presb3rterian. 

EAST MORICHES. 

Fare, $1.95 ; excursion, $3.55. Population, 500. Trains each way daily. Post Office. 

Private Boarding Houses. — De Forest Hulse accommodates 15 guests. Wells Howard, 15. 
Joshua Ferry, 65. H. F. Osborn, 25. Thomas J. Tuttle, 60. E. Howell, 10. I. D. Gildersleeve, 10. 
H. C Smith, 30. C. B. Elmore, 12. A. W. Palmer, 15. L. Pclletrau, 30. John Robinson, 15. 
Hiram Howell, 15. J. Robinson, 12. Rates of board from $5 to $8, according to room and time. 

Two free chapels. 

WEST MORICHES. 

INIoriches Post Office. Stage connects with mail train at Yaphank station. 
Boarding House.— Alpheas Hawkins, 20 guests. Rates %b to |8. 

S P E O N K . 

73 miles from Long Island City. Population about 175. Post Office. Methodist Church 
Trains each way daily. Fare, $2 ; excursion, §3 65. 



SAG //A J? BO A' BRANCH. 85 

Hotels. — Rossmore House accommodates 50 guests. Stephen P. Conklin, Prop. 

Priv.\te Boarding Houses. — James Tuthill, 30 guests. Herrick Rogers, 15. II. H. Rogers, 20. 

D. \V. Ruland, 10. John W. Tuthill, 35. These boarding places are from one to one and a half 
miles from depot. Rates of board from $6 to $8. 

W E S T H A M P T O N . 

75 J miles from Long Island City. Post Ofiice and Telegraph. Trains each way dail3^ Popula- 
tion, 410. Fare, !j!2.io; excursion, $3.80. 

First place east of Rockaway, you can drive to the ocean. 

Hotels. — Howell House accommodates 75 guests. M. D. Howell, Prop. Oneck House, 60 

E. C. Halsey, Prop. Rates of board from $10 to .$12. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Charles Howell accommodates 30 guests, $8 to $10. L. G. 
Rogers, 20, $6 to $8. S. B. Topping, 25, $6 to |8. John Young, 12, f6 to $8. Halsey Rogers, 25, 
$6 to $8. D. K. Halsey, 20, $8 to |io. William Raynor, 20, $6 to $8. H. F. Stevens, 15, $6 to $3. 
Miss M. K. Foster, 30, $6 to |8. Edgar Griffin, 20, $6 to $8. Sarah Culver, 18, $6 to $8. William 
C. Raynor, 12, $6 to ^8. Nathan Raynor, 15, $6 to $8. Chas R. Bishop, 10, !|6 to $8. 

Churches. — Methodist, Presbyterian, and one free chapel. 

Q U O G U E . 

78 miles from Long Island City. Population, 200. Telegraph and Post Ofiice. Trains each way 
daily. Fare, $2.15 ; excursion, $3.90. Station li- miles. Stages connect with every train. 

Hotels. — Wells House accommodates 60 guests, Selden H. Hallock, Prop. Howell House, 90, 
J. P. Howell, Prop. Ouantuc House, 40, Wm. Brewster, Prop. Cooper House, 50, F. H. Cooper, 
Prop. Wells Hotel, 40, R. L. Wells, Prop. Post House, 40, O Wilcox, Prop. Foster House, 60, 
J. F. Foster, Prop. Hallock House, 50, J. D. Hallock. Gardner House, 35, Henry Gardiner. Wells 
Hotel is the only one open throughout the year. 

Boarding Houses. — Silas E Jessup, 12 guests. Marcus E. Griffin, 30. Rates from $7 to $10. 

Church. — Presbyterian. 

ATLANTIC VILLE. 

79} miles from Long Island City. Population about 175. Post Office. One church. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, $2.20 ; excursion, S4-00. 

Hotels. — None. 

Private Boarding Houses. — B. F. Squires accommodates 25 guests. A. W. Jackson, 30. 
W. F. Halsey, 40. John Carter, 20. E. J. Downs, 15. John Brown, 15. Rates from $7 to $10. 

GOOD GROUXD. 

83^ miles from Long Island City. Population, 683 (census 1375). Post Office and Methodist 
Church. Trains each way daily. Fare, ^.i.^o ; excursion, !;'4.20. 

Hotel. — W. N. Lane's Sportsmen's Retreat, accommodates 30 guests. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Joshua H. Corvvin accommodates 25. Mrs. S. R. Jackson, 10. 
Mrs. Ann Phillips, 12. Rates from $6 to $8. 



PONDQUOGUE. 

About 2 miles from Good Ground Station, located on Shinnecock Bay. Fine bathing, fishing, 
and hunting. 

Hotels. — Bay View House, M. Williams, Prop., accommodates 75. Wells House, 12, Geo. S. 
Wells, Prop. Foster House, Wm. S. Foster, 40. Rates from §8 to |i2. Field's Hotel, T. Field, 
Prop., accommodates 30. 



« 

86 SAG HARBOR BRANCH. 

SOUTHAMPTON. 

gof miles from Long Island City. Population, 1,500. Post Office and two churches, Methodist 
and Presbyterian. Trains each way daily. Fare, $2.50 ; excursion, $4.50. 

Hotels. — Post House accommodates 45, Mrs. E. Post, Prop. Ocean House, 25, Charles Howell, 
Prop. Hunting House, 25, B. J. King, Prop. Rates from $7 to $10. 

BoAKDi.NG Houses. — Mrs. Alfred Robinson, 10 guests. Henry Enstein, 15. Edward Randell, 
20. Mrs. Stanbrough, 20. Captain Halsey, 15. Mrs. H. White, 60. B. J. Green, 60. Miss Sybie 
Sandford, 25. G. Whittaker, 25. Miss Jane Woolley, 20. Henry Reeves, 30. Sheldon Halsej-, 20. 
H. A. Fordham, 45. E. C. Reeves, 25. Edwin Post, 35. 

W A T E R M I L L . 

93i- m.iles from Long Island City. Distance from station, il mile. Population about 290. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, $2.60 ; excursion, '¥4.65. 

Hotel. — Point House, L. D. Burnett, 35 guests. 

Bo.^RDiNG Houses. — Mrs. Nancy Goodall, 40 guests. J. A. Burnett, 10. A. M. Benedict, 18. 
T. A Halsey, 20. P. S. Warren, 12. J. T. Halsey, 6. H. S. Rose, S. H. M. Rose, 20. H. R. Hal- 
sey, 18. J. L. Cook, 15. Rates from $6 to !j8. 

B R I D G E H A M P T O N . 

96 miles from Long Island City. Population about 2,000. Post Olfice. Methodist and Presby- 
terian churches. Town Library. Trains each way dail}'. Fare, $2.65 ; excursion, -$4.75. 

Hotel. — Hull's Hotel accommodates 35, Jno. W. Hull, Prop. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Charles S. Rogers accommodates 30. Josiah Foster, 20. Jere- 
miah Ludlow, 25. James A. Rogers, 15. Jas. M. Halsey, 12. H. R. Halsey, 12. A. J.Jennings, 20. 
Hiram S. Rogers, 20. E. J. Ludlow, 15. W. A. Corwith, 15. G. L. Hand, 12. Samuel Mulford, 10. 
Albert E. Topping, 8. Mrs. E. Haines, 6. George Conklin, 5. C. C. Conklin, 30. Andrew Strong, 
10. J. A. Sandford, 10. Nathan T. Post, 12. Thomas Cooper, 20. Mrs. Allen Halsey, 5. N. A. 
Down, 10. Horatio G. Sayre, 15. Mrs. Winters, 6. James L. Sandford, 10. Henry Howell, 12. 
Theodore Pierson, 15. Josiah Rogers, 20. John L. Cook, 6. Rates from !|;6 to $8. 

EAST HAMPTON. 

Boarding Houses. — John D. Hedges accommodates 30, price per week $10. John F. Gould, 
25, $10. John Parsons, 40, $10. -Mrs. George Hand, 20, $10. James P. Mulford, 20, $10. Mrs. M. 
B. Cartwright, 10, ,$8. Mrs. R. M. Baker, 20, $10. George Bushnell, 15, $8. Mrs. Helen Stratton, 
T5, $10. Henry A. Parsons, 40, $10. Henry B. Tuthill, 10, $10. J. H. Parsons, 30, $8. William 
S. Gardiner, 25, I7. Joseph S. Osborn, 20, $10. Mrs. Dr. J. C. Hedges, 10, $10. William L. Osborn, 
30, $10. Stafford Tillinghast, 10, $10, Theodore Stratton, 35, $12. David H. Huntting, Jr., 15, $7. 

SAG HARBOR. 

loof miles from Long Island City. Population about 2,267. Post Office. 5 churches, Metho- 
dist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Roman Catholic Church and Convent 2 newspapers, 
Express and Corrector. Trains each way daily. Fare, $2 75 ; excursion, $4.75. 

Hotels. — Nassau House accommodates 30, R. J. Power, Prop. American Hotel, 30, Freeman 
& Young, Prop. East End House, 25, Mrs. Polly, Prop. Rates from $7 to $12, according to room 
and time. 

Boarding Houses.— Mrs. Douglass accommodates 15. Mrs. Wade (O. R.), 15. Mrs. M. J. 
Graham, 10. Capt. G. S. Tooker, 10. H. French, 12. Rates from ip8 to $io. 

AMAGANSETT. 

Boarding Houses. — Benjamin H. Terry accommodates 25, price per week $9. Benjamin Barnes, 
30, $3. Thomas Spicer, 30. $7. Nathaniel Hand. 25, $8. Theodore H. Conklin, 15, $8. 



PORT JEFFERSON BRANCH 



S Y O S S E T . 

2q', miles from Long Island City. Population, go. Post Office and Methodist Church. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, So cents ; excursion, $1.50 ; 6 months, $56 ; 12 months, $85. 

Bell's Motel, Peter A. Bell, Prop., accommodates about 20. Rates about $6 per week. 

\V O O D B U R Y . 

32 miles from Long Island City. Population, 200. Post Office and Methodist Church. Train 
each way daily. Fare, go cents ; excursion, $1.60 ; 6 months, $57 ; 12 months, $87. 
No Hotels. 
Private Boarding Mouses. — S. V. Whiting, 10. Daniel Abbott, 10. Rates from .f 5 to $7. 

OYSTER BAY. 

2g4- miles from Long Island City to Syosset Station, and 4 miles by stage. Population, 2,000. 
Post Office and 5 churches. Episcopal, Catholic, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Methodist. Trains each 
■way daily. Fare, gs cents ; excursion, $1.40; 6 months, $56.00; 12 months, $85.00. 

Hotel. — Nassau Mouse, 20 guests ; Prop., B. A. Black ; $8 to $10. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Burrill Betts, 12 guests. Mrs. Williams, 40. Mrs. Smith, 50. 
John Wright, 30. Henry Sammis, 10. Mrs. Andrew Cheshire, 20. Mrs. Baylis, 10. Miss Waters, 20. 
R. Valentine, 10. Mrs. Gibson, 10. Mrs. Moore, 10. Rates from $4 to $7. 

COLD SPRING HARBOR (Station Woodbury). 

32 miles from Long Island City to Woodbury Station, and 2 miles from Depot to the village Post 
Office. Methodist, Episcopal, and Baptist churches. Population, 1,000. Trains each way daily. 
Fare, go cents; excursion, $1.60; 6 months, $57 ; 12 months, $87. 

Hotels. — Laurelton Hall, 3^ miles from Depot, accommodates 150 ; R. M. Doane, Prop. ; rates 
from .fio to •'?I2 ; stages meet trains at Woodbury Depot. Forest Lawn Mouse accommodates 50 ; 
Mrs. C. W. Doane, Prop., $8 to $10. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. William Wood, 20 guests. David Rogers, 10. Gilbert 
Jayne, 8. George Dennison, 10. Sidney Titus, 12. William Warren, 10. Rates from $6 to $7. 

Note. — Stages connect with trains from Laurelton Hall, Cold Spring Harbor, at Syosset Station. 

HUNTINGTON. 

35| miles from Long Island City. From Depot, ih miles. Conklin's Stages. Post Office and 
Telegraph. Churches — Roman Catholic, Presbyterian Episcopal, Universalist, Methodist, and Bap- 
tist. Population in 1875, 2,2g8. Trains each way dailv. Fare, $1 ; excursion, !?i.So; 6 months, $58 ; 
12 months, $89. 

Hotels. — Suff"olk Hotel, 50 guests; Samuel Mubb, Prop. ; $7 to $10. Huntington House, 30; 
C. H. Ritter, Prop. ; I7 to $10. Clark's Club House on Point. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Hewlett J. Long, 10 guests. C. J. Bancroft, ro. Mrs. M. J. Tal- 
niage, 12. Mrs. Hamilton, 10. M. L. Smith, 6. Mrs. Gilbert Smith, 8. Misses Conklin, 12. 
Henry Ketcham, 6. Mary J. Conklin. 10. Capt. Alex. Johnson, 12. Mrs. J. Johnson, 12. S. C. 
Brown, 10. Rates from $6 to $10, according to room and time. 



88 FORT JEFFERSON BRANCH. 

CENTREPORT. 

37| miles from Long Island City, i^ miles from Station. Post Office and two Methodist 
churches. Population, i,ooo. Trains each way daily. Fare, $1.05; excursion, $1.90; 6 months, 
$59; yearly, $91. 

Hotel.— Centreport Hotel, Chas. O. Merrill, Prop., accommodates 20. Price from $7 to $8. 

Private Boarding Houses.— Wm. H. Benham, 15 guests. Joseph Irwin, 8. Jno. Schumaker, 8. 
George Francis, 12. L. J. Martin, 40. D. C. Chalmers, 12. Dr. Jayne, 25. A. Wilson, 10. 

GREENE AWN STATION. 

North Side House, E. O. Reeve, Prop., 15 guests. Price from $6 to |io. Greenlawn Hotel,. 
W. S. Hudson, Prop., 6 guests, $5. 

NORTHPORT. 

4oi- miles from Long Island City, i mile from Station, and 2 miles from East Northport Station^ 
Stage connects with all trains. Post Office and Telegraph. Three churches — Presbyterian, Metho- 
dist, and Baptist. Population about 1,827 (1875 census*. Trains each way dailv. Fare, |i.io ; 
excursion, %i ; 6 months, .^62 ; year, ^95. 

Hotels. — Northport House accommodates 40, Selah Smith, Prop., $7 to %\o. National Hall, 15,. 
E. Soper. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Reilly, 20 guests. Reuben Baldwin, 10. John Lewis, I2_ 
P. H. Ackerl}% 50. David Lewis, 12. Mrs. J. Arthur, 10. Rates from $6 to $8. 

Newspapers. — Suffolk County Journal 2iV\di iVort/iport Weekly. 

ST. JOHNLAND. 

44 miles from Long Island City. 

Fare, $1.20; excursion, !j!2 ; 6 months, $63 ; 12 months, I97. 

S M I T H T O W N . 

47i miles from Long Island City. Population, 250. Post Office. Methodist, Presbyterian^ 
Episcopal, and Catholic churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, .$1.30; excursion, $2.40 ; 6 months,. 
$69 ; year, $105. 

Hotels. — Grand Central Hotel (transient), E. Smith, Prop. River Side Hotel accommodates 10, 
W. N. Spurge, Prop. Rates, $1 per day. The hotels are about h mile from station. 

Priv.\te Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Egbert Brush accommodates 6. Rates, $6 per week. Stephen 
J. Halsey, 10. $7 per week. 

ST. JAMES. 

sol- miles from Long Island City, and from Station ^ to i mile. 2| miles from Long Island 
Sound, and 4 miles to Lake Ronkonkoma. Post Office. Methodist, Episcopal, and Presbyterian 
churches. Population, 150. Fare, $1,40 ; excursion, .'<2. 50 ; 6 months, $70 ; year, $107. Trainseach 
way daily. 

Private Boarding Houses.— J. H. Jewell, 10 guests. Mrs. Harriet Smith, 6. Hiram Howell, 10.. 
Mrs. Thomas Hubbs, 6. E. O. Smith, 7. Mrs. Dayton, 8. Rates from $4 to $7. 

STONY BROOK. 

53J miles from Long Island City. Population, 1,000. Post Office. Methodist and Presbyterian. 
Church. Trains each way daily. Fare, $1.50 ; excursion, $2.70 ; 6 months, $72 ; 12 months, $111. 

Stony Brook Hotel, James Horton, Prop., accommodates about 75, and price from $7 to $10 
per week. 

Priv.\te Boarding Houses. — William Jewell accommodates 6. N. S. Hawkins, 6. G. P. Wil- 
liamson, 5. Mrs. Hunter, 4. Alonzo Hand, 4. Capt. John Youngs, 5. Mrs. Nathan Oakes, 4.. 



GLEN COVE BRANCH. 8g. 

D. W. Sherry, lo. Isaac Brown, S. Thomas S. Wells, lo. G. II. King, lo. John Darling, 20. 
Misses Dominick, 5. Mrs. Dickerson, 25. Chas. O. Dowd, 20, Mrs. Groesbeck, 15. Henry Smith, 5- 
Rates of board, from $6 to $8. 

From depot i mile, by D. \V. Sherry stages. 

S E T A U K E T . 

55i miles from Long Island City, Population, 800. Post Office. Presbyterian, Methodist, and' 
Episcopal churches. 

Trains each way dail}'. Fare, $1.55 ; excursion, .'?2.8o ; 6 months, .$73 ; year, $112. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. H. W. Rowland accommodates 20. Mrs. O. W. Rogers, 12. George 
Terrell, 12. Mrs. J. Howell, 12. John Elderkins, 20. Miss Dominick, 12. Rates of board from $5. 
to $6 and $7. The Boarding Houses are from i to \ miles from the Depot. 

OLD FIELD POINT. 

i\ miles from station. 3 miles from Setauket Depot. Walter Smith's stage. 
Churches. — Episcopal, Presbyterian, Methodist and Lutheran. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Vincent Dickerson, 25 guests. Mr. Chas. O'Dowd, 25^ 
John Darling, 20. Rates, $5 to $7. 

PORT JEFFERSON. 

58 miles from Long Island City. Population in 1875, 1,697. Post Office. Five churches — Pres- 
byterian, Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal, and Roman Catholic, One newspaper, Port Jefferson Times. 
Trains each way daily. Fare, $1.60 ; excursion, .$2.90 ; 6 months, $75 ; year, $115. 

Hotels. — Townsend House accommodates 35, C. H. Davis, Prop. ; rates, $7 to 810. Port Jef- 
ferson House, 35, S. R. Davis & Son, Prop., $7 to .^lo. Smith's Hotel, 20, Thomas Smith, Prop. ; 
rates, .$6 to |8. 

Boarding Houses. — Daniel Gildersleeve accommodates 12. Mrs. E. B. Gildersleeve, 5. Mrs.. 

E. P. Tooker, 10. Mrs. Hamilton Tooker, 10. Mrs. H. W. Sweezy, 8. From Depot I mile, by 
Jno. W, Brown's stages. 

Mrs. C. L. Bayles accommodates 20, Mrs. Nancv Thompson, 6. Near Depot. 
Rates of board from S6 to $8. 



GLEN COVE BRANCH. 



R O S L Y N . 

22J- miles from Long Island City, and 1 mile by stage from Station. Post Office. Population 
about 800. Methodist, Dutch Reformed, Episcopal, and Roman Catholic churches. Trains each 
way daily. Fare, 60 cents ; excursion, 80 cents ; 6 months, ."^so ; 12 months, $77. 

Hotels. — Roslyn Hotel, John Charlick, Prop., accommodates 25 ; %i to ^10. Mansion House 
(Wm. riaydock, owner), no proprietor as yet, but will be opened the coming season ; accommodates 
about 80. 

Private Boarding Houses. —John Valentine accommodates 25, .$5 to *7. Thomas Boyle 
(Steamboat Landing), 20, $5 to $6. 



go EOCKAWAY BRANCH. 

» 

SEA CLIFF (Glen Head Station). 

26 miles from Long Island City, and 2 miles by stage from Glen Head Station. Post Office. 
Trains each way daily. Fare to Glen Head, 65 cents ; excursion, So cents ; 6 months, !»:53 ; 
12 months, .*8i. 

Hotel. — Sea Cliff House, Wm. Devines, Prop., accommiodates from 350 to 400 guests. Prices 
range from $7 to $12. 

GLEN COVE. 

27} miles from Long Island City, and \ mile by stage from Depot. Post Office and Telegraph. 
Population from 2,500 to 3,000. Presbyterian, Methodist, Episcopal, and Roman Catholic churches. 
Two newspapers. Trains each way daily. Fare, 70 cents ; excursion, 80 cents ; 6 months, S54 \ 
12 months, $83, 

Hotels. — Glen Cove Hotel, Isaac Snedecor, Prop., accommodates 25, %lb to %%. Schleisher 
Hotel, Frederick Schleisher, Prop., 15 transient. 

Bo.'VRDiNG HorsES. — Mrs. Mary A. Miller accommodates 20. Mrs. W. Merritt, 15. Mrs. Sam- 
uel Y. Cole, 40. Thomas T. Jackson, 25. Samuel M. Titus, 12. George Searing, 20. E. S. Ilen- 
tlrickson, 20. Samuel Frost, 10. Valentine Frost, 10. Willett Weeks, 30. Rates according to room 
and time, from $6 to $8. 

LOCUST VALLEY. 

29J- miles from Long Island Citv, 1} mile from Long Island Sound. Population, 1,000. Post 
Office. Methodist, Reformed Dutch church, and Quaker. Large Public School and Friends' Semi- 
nary, accommodating loo scholars. Trains each way daily. Fare, 75 cents ; excursion. So cents ; 
■6 months, $56 ; 12 months, $85. 

Private Boarding Hot^ses. — Mr. Thomas F. Underbill accommodates 20. C. E. Fecks, 50. 
F. Smith, 60. B. F. Cock, 10. Jno. Baylis, 10. Misses Cock, 30. Mr. Christian Furling, 20. 
Jlates of board from S6 to $8, according to room and time. 



ROCKA\VAY BRANCH. 

H E W L E T T S . 

18 miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Fare, 50 cents ; excursion, 95 cents ; 6 months, 
'.f 44 ; 12 months, $67. 

WOODSBURGH. 

18^ miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Methodist Church. Trains each way daily. 
Fare, 55 cents ; excursion, %i ; 6 months, $44 ; 12 months, $68. 

Hotels. — Pavilion Hotel, Walker &; Gladwin, Prop., accommodates 400, |io to $15. Neptune 
House, Martin Wood, Prop., 50, $10. 

Private Boarding House. — Mrs. William II. Noe accommodates 40, .^6 to f8. 

OCEAN POINT. 

igl miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Trains each way daily. Fare, 55 cents; excur- 
sion, $1 ; 6 months, $46 ; 12 months, $70. 

Private Boarding Houses. — John R. Hicks, 7 to 8 guests ; price, $6 to $8. John Carmen, 8; 
price, $6 to $S. 



SOUTHERN DIVISION. 91 

L A \\ R E N C E . 

2oi miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Trains each way daily. Fare, 55 cents ; excur- 
sion, !f;i ; 6 months, *47 ; 12 months, $72. 
No Hotels. 
Private Bo.\.rdixg House. — Mrs. Wanser accommodates 8 to 10 ; price, I5.50 to $6.50. 

FAR R O C K A W A Y . 

21J miles from Long Lsland City. Post Office and Telegraph. Episcopal and Roman 
Catholic churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 60 cents; excursion, 'Si.io; 6 months, $49; 
12 months, $75. 

Hotels. — United States, Michael Mnlry, Prop., accommodates 300, $10 to $12. Coleman House, 
Jno. J. Coleman, 200, $10 to $12. National Hotel, Thomas Casey, 100, $10 to $12. Pavilion Hotel, 
Joseph McKim, 150, $10 to $12, Beach Hotel, Mrs. E. McCabe, 100, $10 to !?i2. Union Surf Hotel, 
David Roach, 75, $10 to S12. Foss Hotel, Julius Foss, 75, §10 to $12. New York Hotel, Jno. 
Cavanaugh, 75, $8 to $10. Atlantic Hotel, 100, $8 to $10. Transatlantic Hotel, William CafTrey, 70, 
$8 to §10. Neptune House, Jacob HaiTner, 75, $8 to sj'io. Madison House, Michael Dvvj'er, 30, 
sS to %\o. Alhambra Hotel, Jno. Wynn, 50, f8 to $10. Metropolitan Hotfl, J. Spellman, 15, $8 
to ^10. Atlantic Garden, C. Schmidt. 25, ftio to .$12. St. James Hotel, 20, $10 to $12. Hope 
House, 15, !?8 to $10. Grand Central, E. Silverberg. 75, ij^io tb $12. Terrace Garden, Patrick Craig, 
30, $3 to $10. ISIansion House. A. Degrauw, 100, $10 to .^12. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Daniel Mott accommodates 50, $8 to $12. Grand Union, Jas, 
McKim, 75, $8 to ,$12. " Red Lowry," Jas. Mooney, 40, Sio to G12. Mrs. Johnson, 25, $8 to $12. 
*' The Grove," Thos. Pendergast, 40, ^10 to $12. 

R O C K A W^ A Y BEACH. 

26 miles from Long Island City. Fare, 70 cents ; excursion, $1.30; 6 months, $53; 12 mo., $81. 



SOUTHERN DIVISION. 



SPRINGFIELD. 

13J miles. Fare, 40 cents ; excursion, 70 cents ; i month, $7.25; 3 n-vonths, $1975; 6 months, 
$35.75 ; 12 months, $57. 

FOSTER'S MEADOW. 

Fare, 45 cents; excursion, 80 cents; i month, i?7.75; 3 months, $21; 6 months, $38.25 ; 
12 months, .s6i. 

VALLEY STREAM. 

16.V miles from Long Island Citv. Population, 350. Post Office and Telegraph. Episcopal 
Church. Point for divergence of Branch Railway to Rockaway and intermediate stations, and Branch 
Railway to Hempstead. Fare, 50 cen*s ; excursion, 95 cents; i month, $8 : 3 months, $22.25; 
6 months, ^40.50: 12 months, $65. 

Hotels. — Rockaway Branch House. Valley Stream House, A. Bruns. 



92 SOUTHERN DIVISION. 

PEAKSALLS. 

i8| miles from Long Island City. Population, 400 to 500. Post Office and Telegraph. Meth- 
odist Church. Trains each way daily. Fare, 50 cents; excursion, 95 cents; i month, $8.50; 
3 months, $24; 6 months, $43.50 ; 12 months, ij^yo. 

Hotels. — Furman House, Samuel Furman. Pearsall House, Melvm S. Terry. Transient 
boarders only. 

Boarding Houses. — Richard Carman, 40 guests, $6 to $8. Dr. R. B. Baisely, 6, $6 to §8. 
Mrs. M. C. EUmore, 10, %b to $8. 

ROCKVILLE CENTRE. 

igl^ miles from Long Island City. Population, 1,000. Post Office. Methodist and Baptist 
churches, and one newspaper. South-side Observer. Trains each way dail)-. Fare, 55 cents ; excur- 
sion, $1 ; I month, ij'g ; 3 months, ^.i^.^o; 6 months, .'?44.5o ; 12 months, .$72. 

Hotels. — La Roza House accommodates 30. Crossman House, W. H. Crossman, Prop., 15, 
f 6 per week. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. W. Wright, 12 guests. K. P. Chapin, 15. .^'5 to $6 per week. 

BALDWINS. 

21 J- miles from Long Island City. ' Population, 1,500. Post Office. Methodist Church. Trains- 
each way daily. Fare, 60 cents; excursion, $1.10 ; 6 months, $49; 12 mo., $75. 

Hotels. — Baldwin House, Minard L. Bowley, Prop., accommodates 30; price, $6. Milburn 
House, Benj. Langdon, Prop., 10, $5. Milburn Hall, Mrs. McMurtre, 40, *6. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Sally Treadwell accommodates 10 to 12 ; price, $5. Mrs. Thomas 
Baldwin, 8 to 10, $5. Mrs. Merriott, 6 to 8, $5. 

FREEPORT. 

12\ miles from Long Island City. Population, 800. Telegraph and Post Office. Methodist 
and Presbyterian churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 65 cents; excursion, $1.15; 6 months, 
$50; 12 months, $77. 

Hotels. — Central Hotel, George D. Smith, transient guests only. Walton House, Edgar Wright, 
transient guests only. 

Bo.\RDiNG House. — Mrs. Richard Smith accommodates 30, $7.50. 

MERRICK. 

24i miles from Long Island City. Population, 500. Post Office. Methodist Church. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, 70 cents ; excursion, %\.i'^ ; six months, $52 ; twelve months, $80. 

Private Boarding Houses. — H. J. Goodenough accommodates 15, $8 per week. Mrs. Munn, 
10, $8 per week. 

Camp Meeting grounds I mile from station. 

BELLMORE. 

25f miles from Long Island City. Population about 400. Post Office. Presbyterian and Meth- 
odist churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 75 cents; excursion, $1.30; six months,, $53; 
twelve months, $81.00. 

Hotel. — Sportsman's Hotel, B. F. Sammis, Prop., accommodates 15, 

SOUTH OYSTER BAY. 

28| miles from Long Island City. Population about 500. Post Office and Telegraph. Episco- 
pal and Methodist churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 80 cents ; excursion, $145 ; six months, 
$55 ; twelve months, $84. 



SOUTHERN DIVISION. 



93 



Hotels. — Kilian's Hotel, George Kilian, Prop., accommodates 25, !}'3 to %\2. Near depot. 
Vandervvater's Hotel, Chas. Reynolds, Prop., 30, $8 to $12. 

Boarding House.— Misses Vandewater accommodates 10. Price §3 to $12. 
Village I mile from station. Stage meets every train. 

AMITYVILLE. 

31J miles from Long Island City. Population about 1,200. Telegraph and Post Office. Two 
Methodist churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 90 cents ; excursion, .*i.6o ; six months, !J^56.50; 
twelve months, .^85. 

HoTELS.—South Side Hotel, E. C. King & Son, Prop., 125 guests, |8 to $12. Revere House, at 
depot, Townsend Wright, Prop., 60, $8 to $10. 

Priv.\te Boarding Houses.— Timothy Terry, 10 to 12 guests, $8 to $10. Mrs. A. Birch, 12, 
$6 to 83. G. P. Williams, 30, $7 to fro. E. Wilmarth, 8. Mr. Harry Tuthill, 6. Mrs. R. E. 
Seaman, 20. Jas. Bennett, 12. $7 to $10. 

Stages connect with all trains. Distance from depot ] mile. 

B R E S L A U . 

34 miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Three Churches and two Hotels. German Set- 
tlement. Trains each way daily. Fare, 95 cents; excursion, $1.70; six months, $'57; twelve 
months, §88. 

BABYLON. 

37 miles from Long Island City. Population in 1875, 2,166. Telegraph and Post Office. Meth- 
odist, B.iptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian and Roman Catholic churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, 
$1.05 ; excursion, $1.85 ; six months. $59 ; twelve months, $90. 

Hotels. — Watson House, Selah C. Smith, Prop , accommodates 150. American House, Mrs. P. 
A. Seaman, Prop., 70. Price .$10 to $12. La Grange House, J. P. Dodge, Prop., 70. Price §10 
to .$12. Washington Hotel, at depot, John Lux, Prop., 30. Price $8 to $10. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. T. S. Carll, accommodates 25. Price $S to $14. Mrs. James B. 
Cooper, 15, $8 to $10. Mrs. Eaton, 20, $8 to $10. Mrs. Peter H. Hopkins, 12, .f8 to %io. Mrs. T. 
S. Smith, 15, $6 to $8. Mrs. Pamela Lumm, 25, $6 to ,$8. 

^FIREISLAND. 

BAY SHORE. 

41 1^ miles from Long Island City. Population, 1,700. Telegraph and Post Office. Methodist, 
Congregational and Roman Catholic churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, $1.15; excursion, 
$2.10 ; six months, $62 ; twelve months, $95. 

Hotels.— Dominy's Hotel, Mrs. Dominj', Prop., accommodates 100. Price $15. Prospect 
House, J. M. Rogers, Prop., accommodates 150. Price $10 to $12. 

Private Boarding Houses — Howell House, Capt. Howell, accommodates 35. $10 to $12. 
Mrs. Doxee, $8 to $10. Mrs. Ritchie, %i to $10. Mrs. Wicks, |8 to -fio. 

Distance from depot to village \ mile. Stages connect with all trains. The drives east and west 
of Bay Shore are very fine, passing the ground and residences of Bradish Johnson, H. B. Hyde, 
Frank Lawrence, George Wilmerding, Phcenix Remsen, and Dr. Alfred Wac»staff. 

ISLIP. 

43I miles from Long Island City. Population, 1,987. Post Office and Telegraph. Methodist, 
Episcopal, and Presbyterian churches. Trains each way daily. Fare, !?l.20 ; excursion, .$2.20; six 
months, 8^63 ; year, ^97. 



94 



SOUTHERN DIVISION. 



Hotels. — Lake House, A. R. Stellenwerf, Prop., accommodates loo, $12 to $14. Pavilion 
Hotel, P. D. Carrique, Prop., 150, $9 to $12. Somerset House, Geo. Westcott, Prop., 20, |8to$ro. 

Boarding Houses. — H. S. Doxsee, 12 guests, price $7 to $8. Mrs. A. Smith, 15, $6 to $8, Mrs. 
H. D. Whitman, 8, $6 to $8. 

The village about \ mile from station. Stages connect with all trains. 

Principal Residences. — Joseph W. Meeks, J. Bowman Johnston, Wm. K. Knapp, Dr. Abram, 
G. Thompson, John D. Prince, Benjamin Welles, Lee Johnson, Wm. Nicoll, R. O. Colt, Jonathan 
Thompson. Vanderbilt. Geo. L. Lorillard. Dr. T. S. Ryder. 

S A Y V I L L E . 

50]- miles from Long Island City. Population, 2,351 (census of 1875). Telegraph and Post 
Office. Episcopal, Methodist, Congregational, and Reformed Dutch Church. Trains each wav daily. 
Fare, $1.40 ; excursion, $2.55 ; six months, $70 ; twelve months, $107. 

Hotels. — Bedell House, B. W. Field, manager, 30 guests. Rates $6 to $10. Foster House, 
A. D. Foster, Prop., 30, $7 to $10. 

B0.4.RDING Houses. — E. N. Danes accommodates 25. Rates $6 to i^io. L C. Green accommodates 
25. Chas. H. Hulse, 25. Rates $6 to .^10. 

Ocean Grove, Pavilion, Fire Island Beach opposite Sayville, by boat in 30 minutes. Round 
trip, 25 cents. 

B AYPORT. 

52 miles from Long Island City. Population, 800. Post Office and Methodist Church. Trains 
each way daily. Fare, $1.45 ; excursien, S2.60 ; six months, |;7i ; twelve months, $iog. 

Private Boarding Houses. — Mrs. Water Horman accommodates 12. Mrs. Lambert Snedccor, 6. 
Mrs. Frank Edwards, 8. Mrs. George Weeks, 8. William Needham, 28. H. B. Paff, 12. Edward 
Terry, 6. William Smith, 8. Daniel Howell, 6. Garrett Smith, 10. Mrs. H. Paff, 12. Rates 
from $6 to $10. 

Distance from station to village \ mile. 

BLUE POINT. 

52I miles from Long Island City. Population, 400. Post Office. Methodist and Baptisl 
churches. Fare, $1.45 ; excursion, $2.65 ; six months, $72; twelve months, $110. 

Trains each vvaj^ daily, 

Private Boarding Houses. — Joel Furman accommodates 20. William Squires, 10. H. Bishop, 
8. Mrs. Hudson Still, 10. Rates of board from $5 to .^7. 

P ATCHOGUE. 

54^ miles from Long Island City. Population, 2,751 (1875). Post Office and Telegraph. Con- 
gregational, Baptist, Presbyterian, Episcopal and Catholic churches. One newspaper. The Advance. 
Trains each way daily. Fare, $1.50; excursion, $2.75 ; six months, $73 ; twelve months, $112. 

Hotels. — Roe's Hotel, Austin Roe, Prop., accommodates 80. Rates from $8 to $10. Distant 
from the bay i mile. 

Boarding Houses. — Lewis Wicks accommodates 25. G. G. Horton, 25. C. H. Willetts, 20. 
Mrs. Daniel Baker, 8 to 10. Elisha Ackerly, 8 to 10. John Miller, 6 to 8. C. F. Wood, 8 to 10. 
Davis Baker, 8 to 10. A. C. Mott, 10 to 12. W. H. Newins, 6 to 8. Rates from .$6 to $8. 

The Boarding Houses are from \ to i mile from bay. Stages run from village to the bay hourly 
Price 5 cents each way. 

BELLPORT. 

Four miles from Patchogue. Connects by Ira B. Terry stages. Population from 800 to goa 
Post Office. Methodist and Presbyterian churches. 

HoTLL. — B^Ilport Bay House, H. B. Homan, Prop., accommodates 90. Rates from $10 to $12. 



NORTH SHORE DIVISION. 95 

Boarding Houses. — Miss Martha Bell accommodates 10, !f;io per week. Mrs. Joseph Shaw, 10,^ 
$10 to $12. Mrs. E. J. Raynor, 50, $8 to $12. Mr. Salem Corwin, 15, %\o. Mrs. Nelson Ilomar, 
10. $S to $10. Mr. Howell Terry, 10, $8 to $10. Mr. Edwin Post. 10, $8 to %\o. Capt. Orlanda 
Bennett, 8, $8 to $10. Ira B. Terry, 7, S8 to $10. Mrs. David Osborn, 6 to 8. Mrs. Amelia Car^ 
man, 6. Edward Tooker, 10. Mrs. C. E. Goldthwaite, 8. Mr. Henry Osborn, 8. $8 to $10. 



NORTH SHORE DIVISION. 
NEWTOWN. 

5 miles from Long Island City. Post Office. Churches — Methodist, Prcsb^-terian, Episcopal, 
and Baptist. Trains each way daily. Fare, 15 cents; excursion, 25 cents ; one month, $5 ; three 
months, §13.75 ; six months, $25 ; twelve months, $39. 

Hotel. — Newtown House, Mrs. Jackson Hicks, Prop., accommodates 60. Chas. Shueller's. 
Hotel, 30. $8 to 1 10. 

Boarding Houses. — Mrs. S. Palmer accommodates 10. $8 to $10. 

FLUSHING. 

7J- miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Four mails each way. 

Churches. — Episcopal, Dutch Reformed, Roman Catholic, Congregational, Methodist, Baptist, 
and Quaker Meeting House. 

Newsp.^pers. — The Long Island TiiHes {(^-dWy and weekly) and Flushing Journal (6.-\\\y and weekly). 

Banks. — Flushing and Queens County Bank and Savings Bank. 

Schools. — St. Joseph Academy, Fairchild's Institute, High School, Miss Hoffman's Young- 
Ladies' Seminary and St. Michaels. 

Hotels. — Simmons Hotel, E. B. Simmons, Prop., accommodates 40. Price §8 to $10. Fountaia 
House, Harry Lane, Prop., 20, $8 to $10. 

Boarding Houses. — Samuel B. Parsons accommodates 15. Price $10 to §15. Mrs. Joel Jones» 
10, $8 to $ro. Mrs. Treadwell, 12, $6 to $8. Mrs. Sarah A. Hover, 12, %% to $10. Mrs. William P. 
Foster, 10, .*8 to $10. Mrs. Frederick G. Henning, 8, $6 to $8. Mrs. C. R. Lent (on the bay), 25, 
§8 to $10. 

Fare, 25 cents; excursion, 40 cents; one month, !?5.75 ; three months, $15.75; six months, 
$2850; twelve months, $45. 

COLLEGE POINT. 

9^ miles from Long Island City. Post Office and Telegraph. Churches — Roman Catholic, Pres- 
byterian, Lutheran, Episcopal, and Dutch Reformed. Trains each way daily. Fare, 30 cents ; excur- 
sion, 50 cents; i month, 66.25 ; 3 months, !?i7.5o ; 6 months, !53i.5o ; 12 months, .S50. The Central 
Zdtung and College Point Mirror are published here. 

Hotels. — Boulevard Hotel, 100, Jno. M. Donnelly, Prop., $10 lo $12. College Point Pavilion. 
20. Julius Freygang, $8 to $10. College Point Hotel, 20, Theodore Zoeller, .$8 to Sio. Gerlach's; 
Hotel, 10, J. Weinbeer, $8 to $10. Miller's Hotel, 15, John Miller, $8 to $10. 

Boarding Houses. — John Sanderson accommodates 10, .$6 to %%. Darius Banks, 10, ^6 to ijS. 
Charles Haubeil, 20, %t to $8. 

W H I T E S T O N E . 

II miles from Long Island City. Telegraph and Post Office. Churches — Presbyterian, Romar? 
Catholic, Episcopal, and Methodist. Two newspapers, the Whitcstone Ilcrc.ld (weekly issue), and 



g6 NORTH SHORE DIVISION. 

Field Glass (monthl}'). Trains each waj- daily. Fare, 30 cents; excursion, 55 cents; I month, 
:$6.75 ; 3 months, $19 ; 6 months, $34.50 ; 12 months, §55. 

Hotel. — Whitestone House, J. D. Locke, 150, $10 to $12. 

BAYSIDE. 

II miles from Long Island City. Post Office. No Churches or Boarding Houses. Trains each 
v.-ay daily. Fare 3 j cents; excursion, 55 cents; i month, $6.75 ; 3 months, $19; 6 months, $34.50 ; 
12 months, .'^55. 

Hotels.— Bayside Hotel, 75 guests, Anthony Miller, Prop., $10 to $12. Bayside House, 80, 
Joseph Crocheron, owner. Broadway, J. Mannott, 20 guests. 

LITTLE NECK. 

12J miles from Long Island City. Fare, 35 cents; excursion, 65 cents; i month, $7.25; 
3 months, !?I9.75 ; 6 months, S35.75 ; 12 months, S57. 

GREAT NECK. 

14 miles from Long Island City. Telegraph and Post Office. Episcopal, INIethodist, Presbj-- 
tjrian, Dutch Reformed, and Roman Catholic churches. Fare, 40 cents; excursion, 75 cents; 
I month, §7.50; 3 months, S20.25 ; 6 months, .$37 ; 12 months, §59. Trains each way daily. 

Hotel. — Great Neck House, Mrs. Van Cott, 100, Sio. 

Boarding Houses.— Mrs. T. J. Walters, $10, $6 to .$8. Mrs. Ward, 35, $6 to $8. 



CO-OPERATIVE PURCHASING. 

Clul>0 pxircha^inji l^ry Goods, Gcroceries, ii:c., Xc, <it low 

Avl>ole^alc. 

We will attempt in a few words to make plain this plan of purchasing. If a person buys a piano, or a 
dress, or suit o\ clothes, or groceries, etc., he must buy of a retail merchant and pay the retail price. But if 
too or 1,000 who wish any of these articles club together they can buy direct from the manufacturer or importer at 
low wholesale rates. This is purchasing on the co-operative plan. 

THE ADVANTAGES OF THIS PLAN OF PURCHASING. 

1. The goods are bought in large quantities, -SO that each member of the club is really, for the time, a large 
wholesale dealer and is enabled to buy as such direct from the importers and manufacturers or their special 
agents, 

2. As none of these goods are kept in stock by us, and none purchased until the money is paid, no addition to 
the cost of goods has to be made to cover rents, interest on money invested, insurance of the goods, bad debts, etc., 
etc., all of which help to make the goods cost the retailers considerably more than wholesale prices. 

3. On our co-operative plan the goods are always houghl/or cash;\.\\\i, secures the e.xtra cash discount. The 
retail merchants usually buy on 2 10 6 months time, losing the cash discount. We charge for expense and trouble 
but a slight commission. He.nce the members of ouk clubs buy .^t .absolutely lower r.ates than the 

SAME QUALITY OF GOODS COST THE AVERAGE RETAIL MERCHANTS. 

4. In every case we specially contract for goods which are absolutely pure, unadulter.ated, and we p.\y 
THE PRICES for SUCH GOODS, which of course are higher than the prices of the abominably adulterated spices, 
sugars, coffees, baking powders, etc., etc., which are now flooding the markets to the grave injury of the public 
health. 

Tlie Formation of Clubs. 
The plan for forming a club or any of the boxes of groceries or other goods is very simple: Those desiring 
the goods send us their names, and when the number of names forwarded equals the number required to make 
the wholesale purchase and secure the packing, etc., at the prices designated, the club is complete. 1 hen we 
notify all members of the club to forward the money. We then purchase, pack and forward the goods. 

There can be no deviations irom the conditions attached to each offer. Those who wish to purchase will 
please spare needless correspondence in reference to a change or modification of the conditions attached to each 
offer. We will cheerfully send explanation when requested on any point. No goods are sent save on receipt of 
cash, as all the arrangements are made with manufacturers and merchants on a cash basis. Many of these firms 
sell only at wholesale, and will not take the trouble that retail dealers, whose profits are large, are accustomed 
to take. 

One of oxir Special Oflfers. 



1 SHIRTS. 

We bave perfected arraogements with one of the 
largest and most reliable sbirt manufacturers in 
the East for the manufacture, expressly for our 
co-operative plan, a shirt, unlauudried, which 
is guaranteed to be in every particular as described 
below. Our contract stipulates that it is to be 
exactly like the sample furnished us or the con- 
tract is to be forfeited. The sample is superior to 
anything we could find in the wholesale market in 
New York. In not a sipgle point is there any 
"scrimping" or slighting. The best material 
RDd skilled, conscientious workmanship are pro- 
vided for in the contract. The muslin is varrant- 
ed WamsuUa (not as Wamsutta, a trick of adver- 
tising in the retail trade). The linen in the bosom 
is wai ranted to be fully 2,100 fine. The front of the 
shirt is cut out and the three-ply bosom is se-t in. 
The lining of the bosom is shiunk betv^re set in, a 
point every experienced housewife will uppreciate. 
All the seams are neatly felled. The sleeves are 
French placket double-faced, and are set into the 
body of the shirt as is done with those which are 
custom made, thus securing a neat fit, the opposite 
of the disagreeable and nnsightly " bean pole" fit. 
It is open in the back and the pla-cket is double-faced, 
extra well made at the base so as to prevent "split- 
ting down the back." The buttons are flue pearl 
and the eyelets are carefully worked in the bosom. 
The length when made up is fully 36 inches, and 
the width full and ample. To fully appreciate the 
superiority of this shirt to the best standard shirts 
in the market the two must be compared side by 
Bide. 

THE PRICE, 

To secure the shirt at a low price we are com- 



pelled to order in lots of not less than 1,000 dozen. 
If we can secure orders lor this quantity we 
can furnish then at $9.60 per dozen, or $5.05 per 
}4 dcz., which is less than the wholesale price in' 
the New York market of the standard shirts which 
are inlerior to the one our contract calls for, and 
which we guarantee to furnish or refund the 
money. This ebirt in many localities would com- 
mand at retail $2.00, and even more. 

CONDITIONS: 

1 . Orders for 1,000 aozen must be secured. 

2. No orders are received for less than ji dozen, 
but can be made for any multiple of 1^ dozen or 
dozen. No variation can be made in any respect 
as to the style or manufacture of the shirt. 

3. No money is to be sent until notice is for- 
warded that a suificient number of orders are re- 
ceived to satisfy the manufacturer that all will be 
taken. 

i. In sending order be sure and mention the 
size of the neck. All shirts are made in due pro- 
portion to the neck meature. Each package of 1 
dczen or >^ dozen will contain one size only. The 
sizes made are from 13!, in. to 16,'j in. 

5. A f ample shirt can be seen at our office. 

flai"For Groceries, Dress Goods, Silks, Cloths 
Fine Table Cloths, Notions, Carpets, Books' 
Stationery, &c., in this plan. Send for our May 
and June Pamphlet, free. 

igtg-To see how this plan works 'n practice, send 
for the same paniplet, which has a multitude of 
enthusiaxtic testimonials from the Influential 
classts from all parts of the United States. 



REFERENCES: 

Those who desire reference:; as to the respectability of our house are respectfully referred to H. K. & F. B. 
Thurber & Co., wholesale grocers. West Broadway. Reade and Hudson Streets. New York ; Dunham, Buckley 
& Co., wholesale dry goods merchants, 340 Broadway, New York; Cashier, National Park Bank, 214 & 216 
Broadway, New York ; Rogers & Sherwood, printers, 26 it 28 Park Place, New York ; Rev. J. M.Sherwood, 
{same number % for years publisher of Preslyterian Quarterly and Princeton Revieiu: Charles Scribner's Sons, 
the eminent publishing house, 743 & 745 Broadway, New \ork. 

I. K. FUNK & CO., 

Proprietors of the Religious Newspaper Agency 
21 Barclay Street. 



E.A.BRADLEY. G. C CURRIER. 

BRADLEY & CURRIER, 

MANUFACTURERS OF AND DEALERS IN 

DOORS, WINDOWS, BLINDS, 

STAIR RAIL, NEWELS, BALUSTERS, FRAMES, MOULDINGS, GLASS, 

MARBI^C, SI^ATE & l^OOD MANTELS, 

GRATES AND FENDERS, CRESTINGS AND FINIALS, PLASTER CENTRES, 

BRACKETS, ETC., ETC., 

54 & 56 DEY STREET, NEW YORK. 
E- rt. I'BL.TOIT, 

PUBLISHER & BOOKSELLER, 

25 BOND STREET, NEW YORK. 

A FULL LINE OF ALL PUBLICATIONS, IN HISTORY, SCIENCE, BIOGRAPHY, FICTION 

AND GENERAL LITERATURE, 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL. 

Orders for American and Foreign Books will be promptly and carefully filled at the lowest rates. 

Books sent by mail, or express prepaid, on receipt of publisher'' s price. 



NEW YORK AGENT 

FOR 



©ctccfic Q^atja^inc 

OF 

FOREIGN LITERATURE. g. g. |^i:ljplUCJOtt ^^ CC^O/S 

TERMS— FIVE DOLLARS PER YEAR. PU BLICATIONS. 



AMERIG/iN STA/l/DARD BILLIARD TABLES, 

SOLELY USED IN ^VLL CH.\MPIONSHIP AND MATCH GAMES. 

W. H. GRIFFITH & CO. 

Send for Price List. JKB^^^^^^^^W ^^^^ ^°^ ^^^^® ^^• 




The most Extensive ^tock of Imported J^illiard Matei^iau in ^^mei^ica, at 
lower^ prices than any othei^ house. 

^?VAREROOMS, 900 BROADV/AY, N. Y. 

Corner 20th Street. 





ERS & Sherwood. 



PRINTERS, 



PUBLISHERS, 



LITHOGRAPHERS, 



^^ STATIONERS, 



21 & 23 Barclay Street, 

26 & 28 Park. Place, 

CORNER OF CHURCH STREET. 



^^^J 



SUPERIOR WORK h,T REASONABLE PRICES 







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